


Fear of Falling

by XFilesinAMajor



Series: JANE [1]
Category: The Venture Bros
Genre: F/M, Implied/Referenced Underage Sex, The Guild of Calamitous Intent, VenTech, explosive engineering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-08
Updated: 2020-09-15
Packaged: 2021-03-06 15:00:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 63,725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26360785
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/XFilesinAMajor/pseuds/XFilesinAMajor
Summary: Growing up in the world of arching, henching, super science, and dysfunction doesn't leave you very well prepared for a normal life. Jane's tried arching, she's tried henching, and she's tried cutting herself off from that world completely. She thinks maybe she can exploit some old connections to get a job at VenTech, but even that doesn't get her a normal life. (To be fair, it was a mistake to think that it WOULD, but she was desperate.) She's barely been there a month when she winds up entangled in a mess she never bargained for, and it just keeps getting messier.Normal's probably overrated, right?
Relationships: Henchman 21/Original Female Character(s), Rusty Venture/Original Character(s)
Series: JANE [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2065458
Comments: 29
Kudos: 16





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this a few months back but have been putting off editing and posting it since it's, well, a little different from my other stuff. It's still a romance, but our protagonist here is definitely not a sweet widowed mother of two. She's as fucked up as everyone else in Venture Bros., and I really kind of love her.
> 
> Anyway, in light of yesterday's depressing news that the show essentially ended with Season Seven, I figured now was as a good a time as any to start throwing it up here. If there's one good thing about the cancellation, it's that nothing will contradict any fan-fiction that takes place after the end of last season, eh?

_“Miss Chance?” The man with the grey beard read doubtfully off of my resume. It wasn’t a very good resumé. I’d never arched before, I hadn’t finished college, and unless you knew I’d grown up around this kind of stuff, you’d probably think I was just some glorified stripper playing dress-up. I refused to put anything about my family on there, but without that frame of reference I just looked like a newbie._

_“That’s right.” I smiled and tugged on my dark braids, trying to look deceptively cute. “I wanted to go with Calamity Jane, but the Guild shut me down on that one.”_

_The man to his left (my right, since they were seated at a long table facing me) did me the courtesy of a small laugh. “I bet they did!” He leaned over to look at my resumé, too. I should have brought a copy for each of them, but I hadn’t read the ad clearly enough. Stupid, stupid, stupid. “Your specialty is explosives?”_

_“Yep.” I nodded and smiled again._

_The man in the middle—he had to be Dr. Orpheus, the one mentioned in the ad—drummed his fingers on the table. “I mean no offense, but the Order of the Triad is a supernatural organization. Could you explain why you think explosives would be an appropriate foil to us?”_

I dunno, dude, they just put out an ad and I thought I’d give it a shot _. I tugged my hat back just a smidge. “You haven’t seen my bombs.”_

_“Please.” Orpheus spread his hands in invitation. “Show us.”_

_The tiny marble I’d just pulled out of my hat band felt cool in my hand. I ran my thumbnail over it. “Don’t mind if I do.” I pitched it toward them, easy underhand, like playing softball with a kid. It landed on the table with a soft clank, setting free a cloud of sparrow-sized mosquitos. They immediately swarmed over the men at the table. Orpheus waved a hand, and they vanished in a flash of color._

_I already had another one in my hand and lobbed it under the table instead. For a few seconds, all of them stared at it. The man on my left nudged it with his toe, kicking it back toward me. That was when the flames started spewing out. Everyone in the room felt the heat from them, and the tip of the guy’s boot caught on fire, but besides that and some charring on the floor there was no real damage._

_I had another marble in my hand. I held it up between my thumb and forefinger and grinned before throwing it at the men. This one was as more traditional bomb. If the guy on the right hadn’t thrown some sort of purple spell at it, the bits of shrapnel would have shredded the legs and torsos of all three of them. At least, through the bubble of the spell, they could see the explosion. Orpheus winced._

_Personally, I was kind of relieved they’d stopped that one. I didn’t really want to kill these guys during my interview. It wouldn’t get me the job, and it wouldn’t go over well with the Guild, either. I had a couple more marbles on me. As I reached for my hat again, the guy on the left launched himself over the table faster than I was expecting, and I caught a boot squarely in the chest. I spun as I landed, sticking out a foot at the last second. It didn’t take out his knee like I’d hoped, but he had to move quickly again to avoid it. Rather than go for my hat again, I grabbed the marble concealed in my bra, smashed it on the floor, and held my breath._

_Less than a second passed before a very satisfying look of discomfort came over all their faces. Orpheus shifted in his seat. The guy standing above me suddenly looked less threatening. The other guy, though, the balding one, went still and relaxed. Oh no, he_ didn’t. _I stared at him. He raised an eyebrow. I looked under the table. His chair appeared to be dripping._

 _“That’s a good trick,” he told me pleasantly. “It took me_ years _to stumble on the chemical combination that’d influence bladder control.” Nonchalantly, he crossed his legs. “I never would’ve thought to aerosolize it.”_

_I scooted out of the range of the guy who’d kicked me before standing up and taking a breath. I tipped my hat and inclined my head to him. “Lots more where that came from.” There wasn’t. Aside from a few more pyrotechnics and a chloroform bomb, most of my inventory really was more or less standard bombs. But I could always make more if I got the gig._

_“Thank you, Miss…” Orpheus looked back down at the piece of paper in front of him and cleared his throat. “Chance, of course. Miss Chance.” He shifted in his seat again. The effects of the last bomb would take a few minutes to wear off, assuming he was determined to hold it that long. I had a feeling they were dismissing me now so they could run to the bathroom. Maybe using that one hadn’t been the best idea, all things considered. Damn it! “We have your resumé here. We will let you know!”_

_Ugh, like I hadn’t heard_ that _phrase a dozen times before. I managed a civil smile and left through the exit. That put me in a different hallway than the one I’d come in through. This place wasn’t_ huge _by my standard, but it was nothing to sneeze at, either. And I didn’t have the home turf advantage here. I looked around, orienting myself. I’d entered the building from the east side, so it stood to reason I’d find the exit if I headed in the same direction. You’d think, with all the people interviewing for this, they’d have at least set up some arrows or something to help everyone get back out._

_I headed east down the hall and found a door. It didn’t have a flashing red exit sign or anything, but my choices were either open it or head back the other direction. I opened it. This looked like a living room, though not one that saw a lot of action. The lights were off, and there were boxes stacked precariously on the coffee table. The sofa was very retro._

_Okay, so I’d opened_ one _door and gone from industrial conference building to an old lady’s home. Phenomenal. I was about to retreat, feeling like even more of a failure than I had two minutes ago—can’t even find the way out of the building after botching the audition, seriously?—but I heard noises from the other side of the room. There was some light coming through the doorway there._

_Nothing ventured, nothing gained, I figured, and walked over to stick my head around the corner._

_It was a kitchen. Also pretty retro, but spacious and well-lit. There was a big bay window along one wall, showing the grounds where I’d waited in line for my audition. It’d descended into chaos since I’d made it into the building. There was a giant robotic eye stumbling around on spider legs as the bored and insecure wannabe villains out there attacked it. They all looked like they were trying desperately to show off. It was a little pathetic._

_“I’m not going out into that mess,” I announced to the skinny bald guy seated behind the kitchen counter. Overconfidence seemed like the best way to play wandering into his kitchen. “You’ve got a back door, right?”_

_He must have been too focused on watching the scene through the window to notice me, because he jumped about a mile when I spoke. As soon as he’d recovered from the shock, he became put out. “Oh for goodness’ sake! Now you people are invading my_ kitchen _?”_

 _“Hey, not my fault you didn’t have anything to show me the right way out of here.” Wait a second, I knew this guy. The glasses and ginger goatee should have been a dead giveaway, even if he hadn’t said_ his _kitchen. I was talking to Dr. Venture himself. “Shouldn’t you be out there defending your walking eye from the crazies? I mean, you two are clearly an item, right?”_

 _“We’re…” he repeated, processing what I’d said. He also really looked at me, in the way I was used to men looking at me. Orpheus and his crew_ hadn’t _looked at me that way, and what’s the point in the tiny costumes female villains are expected to wear if your opponent isn’t even distracted by all the cleavage? It was kind of gratifying, after my failure, to have someone so blatantly checking me out. “Oh, haha, you’re talking about when I was washing it? It was dirty from all that reconnaissance I’ve been using it for, and it’s such a beautiful day, I figured, why wait?”_

 _“Yes, why wait until a time when your front lawn_ wasn’t _full of villains looking for a chance to prove themselves?” I smirked, amused despite myself. “That’d be crazy.”_

_“Exactly!” He smiled broadly at me. “I take it you enjoyed the show.”_

_The show? The walking eye hadn’t exactly—oh good lord, he was talking about_ himself. _He was implying I’d enjoyed watching his skinny wet ass rub suds all over a giant robot. It had been entertaining, I’d give him that. “Oh yeah, totally. I was dying to join in—but damn it, I didn’t bring my bikini along!”_

 _I watched the surprise and excitement seize his face, could almost hear his thoughts—_ Oh my God, is she flirting with me? _He quickly attempted to recover and act suave, but I kind of preferred the real reaction. “You should have asked! Ordinarily I don’t let strangers meddle with my toys, but I think I might have made an exception for you.”_

_“That’s sweet, but I still didn’t have a change of clothes.” I spread my arms wide, showing how helpless I was about the circumstances. “You wouldn’t want me getting these ones all wet, would you?”_

_I leaned forward over the counter, watching the scene outside while giving him a chance to imagine that. I was petite, only five foot three, but most of that was legs. My Daisy Duke shorts showed them off pretty well. The barely-buttoned, mid-riff exposing flannel shirt and push-up bra did a nice job of accentuating my other assets. I’d look pretty good soaking wet and covered in suds._

_I took my cowgirl hat off, setting it on the counter, and played idly with one of my braids. I didn’t look lethal at all. Kind of a stupid gimmick, really—make sure the girls have nowhere to hide any weapons, then send them out into dangerous situations! It probably caught on with women who didn’t_ need _weapons to kick ass and found it useful to be underestimated. Either that or we just let the patriarchy force it on us. I didn’t care much one way or another, because I took kickboxing and had designer explosives hidden all over me._

 _“You’re not really a super-villain, are you?” Dr. Venture asked, since he couldn’t seem to come up with any convincing version of_ No, I wouldn’t want to see you wet.

_“Not much of one,” I sighed, still twisting my hair around my finger. “I can’t hack it. At this rate, I’m going to wind up as some cut-rate loser’s lackey instead.”_

_Dr. Venture looked me up and down, and smiled. “You sound like you could use a drink! Can I tempt you? I make a mean red mocho cooler.”_

_I had no idea what that was, but I was having a bad day. It wasn’t going to take a whole lot to tempt me. “That’d be wonderful,” I said, having no idea the course of events I’d set in motion with those words._

* * *

Disappointing my father was really hard work. I spent my teens and most of my twenties putting most of my energy into it, even though therapy probably would have been a better choice, because it so happened that a lot of the things that pissed off my dad were also _fun_. Public intoxication, slutting it up, playing video games, toying with dangerous chemicals, hanging out with villains. I’d enjoyed that. For the most part, the fact that it drove Dad nuts was just a fringe benefit.

But then I hit twenty-seven, and the whole villain thing wasn’t going so well, and my dad decided to fucking _switch sides_ and become one himself. So I did the natural thing: dropped out of the game altogether. I even stopped taking his money and got a couple of paying jobs. Boring, low-brow jobs to pay for my tiny, unimpressive studio apartment. I told myself I was doing it because I wanted to make my _own_ way in the world, but a shrink would probably have told me that this was just a new, more adult form of rebellion. Because Dad would _hate_ the idea of his daughter living in a hovel and serving normal people to pay rent.

Why didn’t I waste my time pissing my mom off, instead? She’s the one who _left_ , after all. Dad actually raised me, in his own broken way. The answer is that I did, for a while. At least, I tried to. But she was off in the tropics, enjoying living off alimony and not giving a fuck about me no matter _what_ I did. And after a few years of that, she dropped off the planet completely. Probably dead—Dad never saw fit to tell me the details, which means it undoubtedly had something to do with him. Someone who thought they could get to him by hurting her, even though she’d walked out years before. Maybe they demanded a ransom and he didn’t pay it. Whatever it was, he buried the details well enough that even as an adult I couldn’t find out. Which made him the only parent available to act out against, and also conveniently made it easy to blame him for the fact.

So here I was, on my own in New York, cutting off my nose to spite my face. Because if I didn’t want anything to do with Dad’s world, I didn’t have any useful advantages. And the trouble with working normal, boring jobs was that they were, well, boring. I had a brain! Serving cocktails was easy money and good for pissing off Daddy, but the part of me that was used to plotting, kicking ass, and constructing explosives was bored to tears. I needed something that required more of me than carrying manhattans and wiggling my ass for tourists.

Unfortunately, I’d never bothered finishing college, and without a degree or falling back on family connections, no one was going to give me an interesting job working with dangerous chemicals.

Well, not until Rusty Venture came to town, anyway.

Technically I guess that still counted as exploiting connections, but it wasn’t capitalizing on the family name so I was okay with it. Hell, I wasn’t sure he’d even remember me. We’d met several years back, it had been a one-nighter, and he’d only known me as a level-one arch wannabe calling herself Miss Chance. Which wasn’t really very promising in terms of getting a job doing something that didn’t involve riding his dick, in all honesty. But it beat crawling back to the Guild or the family company, so it was worth a shot.

I went through the proper channels this time. I scheduled an appointment at VenTech. I bought a suit that was more professional than sultry. I put together a resume with my scant academic and GCI credentials, including the data on my personal inventions. I got a blow-out and a slim, sexy briefcase. And I turned up five minutes early.

An overweight security guard with a face tattoo took me up the elevator to an enormous penthouse. It reminded me forcefully of my childhood home, all open spaces and avant-garde décor and pristine surfaces. I hated it immediately. It also looked nothing like the sort of place you’d do a job interview.

There was Rusty, though, waving to me from the white sofa that took up half the room. I looked around, plastered a smile on my face, and walked over. “Hi, Dr. Venture.” I extended a hand, and he stood up to shake it. His grip was on the weak side, but not terrible. “Thank you for agreeing to see me.”

“Oh yes, of course.” He let go of my hand to flap his dismissively and flop back onto the sofa. “It was something regarding laboratory work, right? Why don’t you sit down.”

It was tempting to flop into the cushions and slouch like him, but it wasn’t the impression I wanted to make right now. “Yes, that’s right,” I told him encouragingly.

“Did you work here under JJ?” He at least _attempted_ to be subtle about checking me out. I crossed my ankles, held my knees together, and kept my back straight. “No, I’m afraid I didn’t have the opportunity. But I was hoping that my background in chemistry might be useful to _you._ ”

“Oh, you’re looking for a _job_?” He made a face. “I thought you might have some useful information or something.”

 _Your alternative is crawling back to Dad,_ I reminded myself, and my smile never faltered. “Just because I’ve never worked at VenTech before doesn’t mean I couldn’t help you on your current projects.”

He sighed. “I suppose. What is it you can do, Miss, er…?”

I pulled my briefcase into my lap and opened it to pull out a copy of my resume. “Jane,” I said, passing him the sheet of paper. “My experience is mainly in chemistry and explosives.”

His eyes moved over the words on the page rapidly. “You used to be with the _Guild_?”

I didn’t even flinch—I’d been expecting this. “As you can see, I made the mistake of not taking my studies seriously enough. No traditional firms considered me qualified. Working with the GCI seemed like a good way to put some of my skills to use.”

Rusty eyed me up again, this time with more suspicion than appreciation. “And how do I know you’re not working for them now?”

I shrugged. “Because I’m not? You’re welcome to call them up and inquire. They’ll tell you I let my membership lapse over a year ago, and any background check will show I haven’t done any unsanctioned arching.”

“Ugh, no, I’ve had it with their customer service.” He steepled his fingers, looked at me thoughtfully, and glanced back at the resume. “Jane Inbras, That’s an interesting last name. In-bras. It reminds me of something.”

I tensed, working to keep my smile in place and my breathing even. I knew I should have used something totally unlike my real name! But it’s so much easier to respond to something that sounds familiar. I’d figured my odds of _remembering_ my name were a lot easier this way. Fuck.

“In-bras.” Rusty smiled slyly. “Would it be terribly unprofessional of me to say I’d like to see you with _out_ bras?”

I rolled my eyes. It was more from relief than disgust, though there was no reason for him to know that. “You already _have_ , Rusty.”

“What? When?”

I gave up on the professional schtick and sank back into the sofa. “Colorado, a few summers back. Order of the Triad was holding arching interviews. I bumped into you in the kitchen after mine…?” I raised my eyebrows hopefully, but he still looked blank. I sighed. “Miss Chance. I had on a sexy cowgirl sort of get-up.”

“Oh,” he said, and then “ _Oh!_ ” He smiled broadly at me, and his posture changed. “Why didn’t you just _say_ so?” This time he didn’t just check me out, he undressed me with his eyes.

“Because,” I said, arching my back just enough that he got a hint of cleavage, “I was hoping you’d give me a job based on my actual _merits_.” I shifted closer, resting a hand on his knee. “I didn’t like being a villain, but outside of the Guild no one lets me work on bombs or chemical weapons.” I jutted out my lower lip slightly, making a sad face. “No one gives me a chance to do _science_! I thought maybe you’d understand.”

“Of course I understand!” He smiled condescendingly. “Since I took over VenTech, _everyone’s_ wanted a piece. Guess you saw me in the papers and couldn’t resist coming back for more, hm? You didn’t need the whole interview pretense, you could have—”

Ugh, I’d taken the flirting too far. This was a fine line to tread. “But I _do_ want a job,” I told him earnestly, making up for cutting him off by leaving my hand on his knee. “Honestly! You don’t even need to pay me that much, I just want license to work on real stuff in a real lab. You’re a scientist, too—I thought maybe we could work together.”

“ _Just_ work?” he leered.

“Well.” I bit my lower lip. “I don’t want people to think I got the job by fucking the boss! I mean, I’m sure you could get any woman you wanted in your bed. But only _I_ can help you develop high-end explosives and super drugs.”

His eyes widened. “Can you really?”

I pulled more papers out of my briefcase and shoved them at him. “Take a look for yourself. These are just the concepts I’ve been working on.” I passed him a manilla folder. “And these are the patented devices I’ve developed in the past.”

He perused them. I removed my hand from his knee and drummed my fingers on my own thighs instead. The suspense was awful. I really _did_ want this, and I’d play any angle I thought might work.

“Sure, fine, you’ve got the job.” He gave the papers back to me after only a few minutes’ consideration. “Show up tomorrow morning, I’ll tell Billy and White to show you around the lab.”

“Seriously?” I gaped at him before delight overtook my face. “Just like that?”

“If you can’t help out old friends,” he told me breezily, “what good is it being rich and famous?”

Old friends? That was a bit of a stretch, but I kept my mouth firmly shut on the point. Instead, I hugged him. “Thank you so much! That’s incredible!”

“It is, isn’t it,” he agreed with a smirk. “Why don’t we have dinner tonight to celebrate?”

Crap. “I can’t,” I admitted, exaggerating my genuine disappointment. “I have to work.”

“What are you talking about? I just said you start tomorrow morning.”

I shook my head. “My current job. I had to pay the bills somehow!”

“Well, so quit! You’re with Venture now.” He slipped an arm around my shoulders possessively.

“Rusty.” I put a hand on his chest. “I want you.” That wasn’t a _total_ lie, he’d been decent last time. “But I can’t just…” I shrugged, trying to find the right words. “If I sleep with you now, I’m always going to feel like that’s the only reason you gave me a job. Maybe, you know, down the line…? Once I show you what I can do in the lab?”

“Oh, so you want to do it in the lab?” He winked. His persistence was almost cute, if you ignored the fact that five minutes ago he hadn’t even remembered me.

I let the amusement show in my eyes. “That’s not what I said.”

“Really?” His hand slid over my shoulder, down to the small of my back instead. “All I heard was, ‘Rusty, I want you.’”

He wasn’t going to let this go, was he. I had a quick internal debate. I liked sex. I wanted this job. And Dad hated Rusty. Oh, what the hell. Just this once.

“I’ll tell you what,” I breathed, leaning in close so that his hand fell all the way down to my ass, “since we can’t celebrate tonight, maybe we do it right now instead.”

“Let me check my schedule.” He moved in to kiss me.

“I’m sure you can fit it in,” I murmured, and let him.

When we stopped kissing, I was sitting sideways in his lap, with my arms looped around the back of his neck, and we were both a little flushed. “One condition,” I told him breathlessly.

“What’s that?” He was focused on unfastening the buttons of my suit jacket. He got the last one, and it slipped open and halfway off my shoulders immediately, revealing the gauzy gold top underneath.

“That the job’s not contingent on me sleeping with you. And unless you plan on paying me a six-figure salary, I keep my old job too.”

“So provided you don’t _have_ to sleep with me, you want to sleep with me.”

I nodded against his shoulder and nibbled on his earlobe. “It’s hotter when it’s by choice.”

“Mm, I can I see that,” he agreed, running his hands over the fabric of my top. “Want to move this someplace with a door?”

The pressure of his hand on my breast _was_ pretty nice. I nodded and slid my feet around to the floor. “As long as I’m in the lab and on the clock, I’m your employee,” I told him, holding my hand out for a handshake. “Nothing more.”

“Not a problem, Miss…uh…” To cover his lapse in memory, he shook my hand eagerly.

I smirked. To be fair, he hadn’t known my name until this afternoon. “Jane.”

“Right. Jane In-bras.” He stood up too, putting his hand around my waist as he escorted me toward the stairs. “Let’s get you out of it now, shall we?”

* * *

I’d been working for VenTech for a couple weeks, and it was actually going remarkably well. The lab was absolutely enormous and equipped like a chemist’s wet dream. I was allowed to explore and tinker with pretty much anything I wanted, as long as it was in the interest of developing something useful or profitable. Rusty popped in occasionally, and I’d seen his bodyguard a few times, but mostly it was just me and the two other scientists on staff. Billy was a hydrocephalic biologist, and Pete was an albino technologist. I felt a little like a third wheel around them at first, since they’d been a team for years and years, but they were laid back and understood the benefits of having a chemist around. After a few days, we started developing a rapport. And the place was big enough that if I wanted to avoid them, it wasn’t too difficult.

I hadn’t seen a paycheck yet but given it had only been a few weeks that seemed pretty standard. It only bothered me because I had no idea how large or small it was going to be, or when it might arrive. Billy and Pete’s laughter when I asked about pay schedules wasn’t exactly encouraging. But frankly, I barely cared if I got paid. I had another job, after all, and I made enough cash there to pay rent, power, and my phone bill. I didn’t eat much, and I didn’t have time for a lot of recreation. So in terms of finance, I didn’t _need_ to work at VenTech.

And I loved the lab. I doubted Rusty had any idea what he had down here. There were compounds that were illegal, and equipment that I hadn’t even known existed. There were facilities for experimenting with them and loads of data for me to pour through. I wasn’t given parameters like _nothing potentially lethal_ or _nothing immoral_ or _don’t play god._ In my first week there, I invented a type of bomb that released scores of tiny burrowing nanobots. My second week I worked with Pete to invent a memory-altering serum that allowed you to program in the memories you wanted to supplant the real ones. I came up with a new anti-nausea drug that worked on food poisoning as well as hangovers. I started work on a tiny sticky bomb that packed a punch big enough to take out an entire building.

I was burning the candle at both ends, sure. Mad scientist by day, cocktail waitress by night, cramming in sleep when I remembered that I needed it. I kept getting lightheaded because I was so into my work I forgot to stop for a protein shake, so I invented a time-release calorie tablet that I could carry around with me. I guess that sounds pretty insane, but I can’t understate that for the first time in my life, I felt like I wasn’t being held back. I was doing what I was good at, damn it, and my mind was racing a mile a minute! I was like a kid who’d been set free in a playground. I didn’t have to follow my dad’s stupid rules. I didn’t have to follow the _Guild’s_ stupid rules. I didn’t have to wear a stupid outfit. I didn’t need a stupid name. In the lab, Jane ruled supreme.

The boss seemed happy with my work, too. He was already plotting marketing on the nausea meds and the little calorie pill that I’d created as an afterthought. And he was true to his word—once he saw how focused I was in the lab, he showed no inclination of trying to pull me away from it for a quickie in the de-con chamber. He still flirted with me shamelessly, and he did persuade me to have dinner (and sex) with him up in the penthouse once, but it seemed to dawn on him that I was more beneficial in his lab than in his bed. Sure, Rusty _talked_ like I was his girlfriend, but that seemed to be more for his own ego than from any actual expectation of romance.

Pete and Billy were inclined to tease me about my relationship with him anyway, of course. That stopped after I offered to even the playing field by fucking both of them, too. Neither of them had the balls to take me up on the offer at the time, but it pretty effectively stopped the jokes.

Everything was going just great as I neared the end of my first month at VenTech. I was dragging a little bit as I cleaned up and got changed for my second job, and contemplated the exact proportions I’d need for a stimulant drug that effectively reduced the need for sleep without having any negative consequences on the body. I was jotting an equation down on the back of an overdue bill, still in the jeans and tank top I’d taken to wearing under my lab coat, when I felt a sharp sting in my arm, like a wasp or something, and I barely managed to sink onto my hands and knees before I blacked out.


	2. Chapter 2

When I woke up it was with a throbbing headache, in what looked like a cave. It felt like a cave, too. I shivered and tucked my arms in closer to myself. I was lying on the floor; that combined with the cold damp air couldn’t be helping the cause. I wasn’t really all that surprised to find my wrists bound together. This wasn’t my first rodeo, though admittedly it had been a decade or two since I’d last gotten kidnapped. My wrists were zip-tied together in _front_ of me, and the tie holding my ankles together seemed to be the only other form of bondage. My jeans and tank top were still on. As far as abductions go, this ranked pretty low on the fear index. I was more annoyed than anything, because I didn’t know how long I’d been unconscious but I’d almost certainly missed my shift. That was a few hundred bucks I wouldn’t be earning tonight, assholes.

I propped myself up on one elbow and looked around. “Hello?” I called, not bothering to hide the irritation in my voice. “I don’t suppose you abducted me just to leave me alone in a cave. You know whatever you shot me with leaves a hell of a headache, right? I could use a drink! And maybe a blanket, if your planning on keeping me here much longer?”

Nothing happened. I waited a minute before snapping “Fuck you, then,” into the empty cave and resting my head back on the cold ground. It didn’t do anything to raise my body temperature, but it helped the headache a little bit. I cursed myself for spending too much time in the lab and at the club, and not enough time training. Ten years ago, I would have been able to escape a situation like this without issue. I still could have, if they’d tried to take me while I was awake, or if I’d woken up with a knife on me. Fucking cowards. Fuckers. Oh well, I could improvise.

I pushed myself back up into an awkward sitting position and surveyed the place. I could hear and smell water. Not many lights were on, but there were telltale glows from some computer panels and the edges of what I thought was a stairway. I scooted backward until I was close enough to one of the instrument banks to see a bit more. Nothing I could use as a weapon, damn it. I leaned into the nearest wall and pushed myself up to standing, then shuffled over to the chair by the panels and sat down. There was a flashing light near the screen in front of me, so I extended my bound hands and pushed around it until something depressed. The screen lit up.

“You’re awake!” said a voice from somewhere above me.

_Password,_ the screen said. For fuck’s sake. “I’m turning _thirty_ this year,” I snarled, rotating the chair around to look for the source of the voice. “My dad hasn’t called me in over a year, I don’t even think he knows where I live, so I highly doubt he’s going to pay whatever it is you want. Just cut your losses and let me go before I develop something that makes you vomit up the contents of your colon.”

“No kidding,” said the voice. It was male, moving closer, and surprisingly friendly. “I’m turning thirty this year, too. Who’s your dad?”

I narrowed my eyes—and then narrowed them further, because the lights came on. They weren’t painfully bright, thankfully, more of an atmospheric glow, but it still added a couple more red-hot needles of pain to my headache. “Ugh,” I muttered, and pressed my forehead into the cool console.

“Oh, sorry,” my captor said at once. It sounded like he was right behind me now. My head hurt, but not enough to make me miss an opportunity. Abruptly, I shoved hard against the computer panel, pushing myself and my rolling chair backward. The chair spun slightly as I did it, but my knees connected with something solid. My captor grunted and stumbled, and I heard something hit the ground.

“Damn it,” he said, crouching down as my momentum wore off. “What’d you do that for? You made me drop the aspirin.”

I put my feet flat on the ground and turned the chair around to get a look at him. A big guy in what looked like his pajamas and a bathrobe. Young, muscular, unshaven. “Aspirin?” I asked.

“Yeah.” He glanced up at me before resuming his search of the floor. There was a plastic water bottle lying next to him, that must have been what I’d heard drop. “You said you had a headache.”

This was suspiciously kind behavior for someone who had abducted me. “You could have told me you’d _heard_ me,” I said petulantly.

“I didn’t,” he told me, still searching. The fact that I might not want a pill that had been lying on the floor of a cave clearly hadn’t even occurred to him. “I mean, I did. But I wasn’t in here. You slept _way_ longer than we expected you to, so everyone went to bed. I programmed the system to wake me if there was any movement down here, and then I watched the footage.”

Well, that explained the pajamas. And why it had taken him so long to get down here.

“Just give me the water,” I sighed, holding out my hands for the bottle. “Never mind the aspirin.”

“You sure?” He looked for another second or two before shrugging and straightening back up.

“Yeah.” I watched him unscrew the cap of the bottle. “What do you mean, I slept longer than you were expecting? How long was I out?”

He pressed the bottle carefully between my bound hands. I immediately took a long sip. “About twenty-eight hours.” I almost did a spit-take. I tried to swallow instead, and wound up coughing and spluttering. Stellar.

My captor, whoever he was, thumped me on the back. “You okay?”

I continued coughing sporadically but nodded and wiped my mouth off on my upper arm. “Don’t tranqs normally wear off in five to six?”

“Yeah,” he agreed, leaning comfortably against the console surface and watching me. “I was getting a little worried, honestly. When was the last time you really slept?”

I glared at him and took another sip of water before answering. “You tell me. You’ve been spying on me, right?” They’d tranqued me within five minutes of my entering my crappy, unsecured apartment. No way they hadn’t been watching me. _Why,_ was the bigger question.

He looked faintly embarrassed. “That wasn’t me.”

“Oh, one of your henchman? Loads better.” I took another sip. “Who _are_ you, anyway?” Maybe it was just because he was in a bathrobe, but I couldn’t place him in my mental catalogue of registered villains.

“Hen…” he started to answer, then shook his head. “I’m Gary.”

It was kind of sweet, getting a real name. But also incredibly unhelpful. “Great,” I said. “I’m Jane. Now are you going to let me go, Gary? I’m serious, my dad doesn’t give a fuck. You seem like a nice enough guy, so just let me go and I’ll forget this ever happened.”

His actually _grinned_ at me. “So you’re not going to make me vomit up my colon, then?”

I scowled. “Don’t laugh. I could totally do it.”

His smile dwindled but didn’t vanish. He was, I decided, kind of cute. “So you’re actually doing _science_ with Dr. Venture all day?”

My jaw dropped a little bit. This wasn’t about Dad at all. This was about _Rusty_. I couldn’t believe I’d been so stupid! Of _course_ there were villains monitoring him, looking for a chance to strike. He and his bodyguard had even made jokes about it. I’d just thought, somehow, that if I didn’t pay any attention to the Guild, it wouldn’t pay any attention to _me_. I’d dropped the family name and was out of the game, right? Just a regular scientist now.

Apparently not if I was working at VenTech.

I took a deep, steadying breath and snapped my mouth shut. “Yes,” I told Gary firmly, “I’m a chemist. I don’t know who you _think_ I am, but—”

“So you’re _not_ Dr. Venture’s girlfriend?” He raised an eyebrow and folded his arms, like he didn’t believe me.

I growled in frustration. “No, I’m not!” He continued giving me a skeptical expression. “I’m _not_! What, you have video of us in bed together or something? All that proves is that you’re a creep!”

“Hey, I already said it wasn’t _me_ on recon!” he protested, actually sounding distressed.

So they _did_ have footage of me and Rusty banging? Well, hopefully someone had enjoyed the show. “Oh, sorry, it wasn’t you personally recording our naked bodies writhe around, so that makes it totally okay.” I rolled my eyes. “Let me get this straight. You had your cronies abduct me because you saw me fuck Rusty Venture once or twice, concluded I was his girlfriend, and figured he’d what, pay a ransom? Come to my rescue? Sacrifice himself? I’m a pretty good lay, I admit, but I’m not _that_ good!”

Gary was looking at me thoughtfully now. “That’s exactly what you’d say if you were trying to protect him.” He paused, and his brow pulled down again. “But I actually think you’re telling the truth.” He paused again. “So what _were_ you doing in VenTech Tower every day?”

What, was he stupid or something? “ _Working_ ,” I told him for what felt like the tenth time. “I. Am. A. Chemist. Jesus Christ, dude, I’m a fucking _chemist!_ I just _work_ there!”

“Okay, okay!” He held his hands up in front of him in surrender. “I get it!”

“So you’ll let me go?” I asked hopefully.

He hemmed and hawed on that one. “It’s, uh…that’s not really up to me. The Monarch already sent Venture a picture while you were out cold, and even if you’re not _dating_ you’re close enough to him that we should probably do _something_ to you.”

“The Monarch?” I repeated. I’d have to be dead not to know _that_ name. I stared at Gary again. “You’re not him.” Of course he wasn’t, jeez, he’d just talked about him in the third person. “You’re just a _henchman_?”

Gary puffed up his chest a little and looked down at me. “I’m his number two!”

Great. I’d been wasting my time trying to convince a second-in-command. “So where is _he_ , then?” I sighed, feeling defeated. “Can we get him down here and sort this out so I can go home?”

“He’s, uh…asleep. Middle of the night, remember?”

Right. I sighed again. “Look, I know how this works. Why don’t you just rough me up a little bit, point me in the direction of the exit, and I’ll tell Rusty Venture I narrowly escaped with my life from the big, bad Monarch.”

“Rough you up?” His eyes widened.

“You know, give me some good bruises, maybe a couple little cuts, make it look like I got tortured while I was here?”

“You _want_ me to do that?” He looked puzzled.

I rolled my eyes again. “No, I’d rather just go home, but I get that’s not going to fly. You let me escape unscathed, you get in trouble with your boss. But best case scenario here is that Rusty’s miffed enough to send his bodyguard down here to get me back. I’ve seen his bodyguard, you don’t want that. If you beat me up to ‘send a message’ before you let me go, you can save face.”

Now Gary cocked his head to the side. “Why do you care?”

“Seriously?” It was my turn to lift my eyebrows. “Because I’d rather get out of here sooner, with a few bruises, than spend all night waiting around for the Monarch to decide the best way to use me to try and hurt Rusty. Which will probably hurt me way more than it hurts Rusty. And I’ve henched before, I know how these things go. You seem like a nice enough guy. No reason you should pay for someone else’s screw-up.”

“You’ve _henched_?”

I shrugged, somehow embarrassed about admitting it now. “A little bit. I tried getting into arching a few years back, but it’s hard to break into. Sadly there’s not a huge market for college drop-outs who like to dabble in explosives and poisons, so. You know.”

Gary looked at me in wonder, leaning up against the console bank. His bathrobe fell open to reveal a solid wall of chest and stomach. He was built like a _tank_. I bet he could pick me up and throw me over his shoulder without breaking a sweat. “Okay, seriously, who _are_ you?”

“I already told you.” I smiled sweetly. “I’m Jane.”

He laughed—one short sound of amusement, but I liked it. “Come on, from one henchman to another.”

“What, you want my life story?”

“Well, we’re not going anywhere,” he pointed out.

I sighed. “Not willing to beat up a girl, huh?”

“I’d rather not beat up a beautiful chemist while she’s tied up and can’t fight back, no,” he admitted with a brief grin. “Especially not when she says she could make me barf out my intestines.”

_Beautiful chemist,_ I liked the sound of that. Maybe I should change my plan of escape to seduction. “I wouldn’t do it to _you_ ,” I assured him, putting a hint of a purr into my voice. “You’ve been a perfect gentleman.”

He laughed again, uneasily. “You’re not what I expected.”

“Oh?” I raised my eyebrows coyly. “What _did_ you expect?”

“I don’t know. Not someone who knew about chemical weapons and henching. Some bimbo, I guess?”

“Well.” I stretched, extending my legs, rolling my shoulders, and arching my back. “I’m glad I don’t come across as a bimbo, anyway. How long do you think we _have_ until The Monarch deigns to join us down here?”

“Probably another six hours. We _just_ went to bed when you woke up.”

That was a lot longer than I wanted to spend captive down here. I tried stretching out my arms, too, and let the water bottle slip out of my hands in the process. “Shit!” Half of its remaining contents spilled down the front of my shirt before the bottle landed on its side in my lap, soaking that as well. “Shit,” I exclaimed again in dismay. I hadn’t meant to get _that_ wet. “Shitfucksonofabitch!”

Gary grimaced in sympathy. “Um…crap. You need a paper towel or something?”

I shifted my legs, letting the nearly-empty bottle roll off me and onto the floor. “That’s not really going to do much good.” I shivered. “Fuck. I was _already_ cold!” I might have gotten wet intentionally because I thought it might give me an edge, but I wasn’t feigning the way my skin prickled in the cold air. This had been a bad decision.

“Here!” He pulled off his robe without hesitating, draping it over my shoulders and wrapping it around me.

The gesture caught me off guard, not at all what I’d planned, but the robe _was_ warm and cozy. “You _are_ a gentleman!” I exclaimed, meaning it. He was now standing around the cave in nothing but a pair Star Wars patterned pajama pants. “Now _you’re_ going to freeze,” I remarked apologetically. “You didn’t have to do that.”

He shrugged off my protest, though he hugged his arms around himself as if he was ashamed of all the exposed skin. Something about it turned me on. He was big, sure, but in a sexy way. Not flabby or weak. “I like your tattoo,” I offered.

His arms shifted. “Really?”

“Yeah.” I smiled at him. “It looks badass. Lemme see.”

Nervously, he uncrossed his arms and let me take a look. _Hench 4 Life._ “Man, you’re dedicated, huh.”

Gary shrugged. “I tried different things for a while. But I think, like…this is who I am.”

Huh. I hadn’t met many henchmen who took that much pride in their work. “Hey, if you like it, good for you.” I hesitated, taking a second to admire the thick muscles in his bare shoulders. “ _Do_ you like it?”

He nodded slowly. “Yeah, you know, I do. Most of the time, anyway. But no one loves their job _all_ the time.”

I nodded, unable to argue with that. “How’d you get into it?”

His smile turned rueful. “By accident. They thought I was someone else and kidnapped me.”

“Hm, _that_ sounds familiar.” I grinned. “I can’t say the whole experience has made me want to sign up though, sorry. There must be something special about you.” He shrugged awkwardly. “Oh jeez, it wasn’t like Stockholm Syndrome or something, was it?”

“What? No! Of course not. Well…maybe a little.” For a minute, he looked lost, and I found myself wishing I could do something to help. Then he straightened his spine and lifted his chin. “It doesn’t matter, though! I like where I am now, that’s what matters.”

I smiled encouragingly. “Good for you! Can’t change it, you make the best of it, right?”

“Something like that.” He looked uncertain again. “How’d _you_ get into it, then? Henching?”

I made a face. But for some reason, I told him the truth. “Oh, I was just trying to piss off my dad.”

“Why, what’d he do to you?”

I snorted, embarrassed to admit my own pettiness. “Nothing _that_ bad. He was just controlling and withholding, classic parental combination. He wasn’t abusive or anything, I’m sure he was trying to keep me safe—but it was like he didn’t really care about _me_ at all, you know? Who I actually was, what I actually liked, none of that mattered to him. I was an asset or a liability. Probably both, honestly.” I grimaced. “I grew up with money and brains, I have no right to bitch.” Not compared to someone who’d gotten Stockholm Syndromed into this life, anyway.

“Sure you do.” He had actual _sympathy_ in his eyes. For _me_! I cringed away from the emotion. “Sounds a lot like the m…someone else I know. Having someone looking out for you’s way more important than money. Especially as a kid. Otherwise I think you just, you know, focus on impressing the wrong people. Or doing it the wrong way.”

My mouth felt dry—I regretted spilling the water now. “That’s…really insightful.” I swallowed. “Thanks.” I wasn’t used to getting genuine concern from the people I regularly spent time with, let alone total strangers who had recently abducted me. But this guy, he seemed like he actually understood. Which was ridiculous. I turned the conversation back around on him. “What were _your_ parents like?”

“They were okay, I guess.” He didn’t quite meet my eyes now, though, I noticed. “They were divorced.” Ditto, dude. “I spent most of my time with my mom. I was…” He laughed softly. “I was a chunky, nerdy, awkward kid. She didn’t really _get_ me. But at least I knew she loved me.” 

There was a _but_ in that story. There had to be. “So how does a nerdy kid with supportive parents get into henching? If anything, it’d seem like you’d go the sidekick route.” I nodded toward his Star Wars pants, which had plenty of green and blue lightsabers on them. “You’re Jedi, not Sith. You give a lady your _bathrobe_. You’re not evil, you’re a boy scout!”

“Never made Eagle Scout, though.” He had a cute grin. “And I’m loyal. The horde took me in and made me one of them. No one treated me different cause I was this fat, dorky teenager. They made me part of something.” He shrugged. “I liked that.”

“You were still a teenager?” I gaped. The poor guy had never had a _chance_ at a normal life! Sure, neither had I, but this felt different somehow. Maybe because he’d turned out the type of guy who gave women his bathrobe rather than let her shiver, and I’d turned out the sort of girl who viewed killing him and seducing him as equally valid options.

Not that I’d consider killing him _now_. But when he’d first walked down here, if it had seemed like a good way to escape, sure. They’d _kidnapped_ me. I still wasn’t sure what The Monarch was going to do to me, if I was still around when he woke up. I tried to assuage my conscience, but I was starting to feel really bad about the threat to make him vomit his intestines. When, let’s not forget, he’d been trying to bring me a drink.

“Fifteen.” He rubbed his hands along his arms. He was standing close enough that I could see the goosebumps on his skin.

I rolled my eyes again, because it came more naturally for me than offering genuine sympathy. Unlike _some_ people. “You’re freezing. You should go back and get some real clothes or something.”

“And leave you to escape?” He grinned again and shook his head. “Not a chance.”

“Can’t blame a girl for trying,” I smiled, relieved to have a bitchy excuse for not wanting to see him cold. Of course, after that I couldn’t think of a single thing to say. “So you’re definitely not on board with the ‘rough me up and let me go’ plan?”

“Loyal, remember?” He looked apologetic about it, though.

“Damn.” I managed to snap my fingers despite the wrist ties. “Guess I’ll have go with Plan B, then.”

He didn’t look very worried, which irritated me. “What’s Plan B?”

I stretched my feet out toward him first, so that when I pushed myself upright I was standing directly in front of him. He was taller than I’d realized, but by pushing up on my tip-toes and stretching my arms, I was able to slide my wrists over his head and pull him down into a kiss.

He froze the second I touched him—but he didn’t fight it, either. And I kissed him _good_. I didn’t just put my lips and tongue into it, but made it the kind of kiss where your whole bodies fit together and move with it. After a few long seconds (which gave me time to appreciate the fact that he really _must_ have just gone to bed, because he tasted like toothpaste) his hands settled on my waist. A few more seconds, and his tongue pushed back against mine. A few _more_ seconds, and his muscles tightened as he pulled me closer against him.

I liked it. His movements were clumsy and tentative, like he hadn’t had enough experience with women, but he was earnest and warm and strong. I liked the weight of his hands on my hips, and the scratch of his unshaven face against my lips whenever I strayed from his mouth. If my ankles hadn’t been bound, I’d have jumped up and wrapped my legs around him. He’d have had to grab my ass to hold me up, then. And I _wanted_ to feel his hands on my ass. I wanted this to get dirty, and fast.

But there was something sweet about it as it was, too. Sweet, there was another word that didn’t come into my daily life too often. But that’s exactly what it was. I even backed off a little, slowing down rather than trying to escalate, enjoying the sweetness of it.

When he broke the kiss off my wrists were still right there behind his neck. Our faces were stuck a few inches apart, and I could have easily gone right back to kissing him. Another kiss would have been a lot less scary than looking up into his face from three inches away. His eyes were a bright blue, and he was slightly flushed. The way he was looking at me made me feel naked in a way I wasn’t comfortable with.

Then he blinked, reached behind his head, and ducked as he lifted my wrists back over. He pressed my hands against my stomach, made sure I wasn’t going to fall on my ass, and took a quick step back. “Gotta say, no one’s ever tried to seduce me before.” His laugh was a little unsteady.

I swallowed, feeling bereft now that he’d moved away from me. “I didn’t mean…that was a joke. It wasn’t really part of an escape plan.”

He wouldn’t meet my eyes now, and I noticed he was carefully keeping his distance. “Right. You just…felt like kissing one of your kidnappers.”

I winced. “Stockholm?” I tried joking.

Gary shook his head. “You almost had me, you know? When you were saying you weren’t Venture’s girlfriend, didn’t want to get me in trouble, used to hench, I _believed_ you.”

I was strangely wounded by that. “Well it was _true_!”

It was like he didn’t even hear me. “But kissing me, that’s just…” He shook his head again. “That wasn’t believable.”

Not _believable_? My lip twitched angrily. “Hold up a sec. You found it believable that I’m a former henchman with daddy issues who can develop lethal drugs at the slightest provocation, but me wanting to kiss you, that’s just too much to swallow?” He flinched at my tone, but still didn’t meet my eyes. “Holy shit, insecurities much?”

He _still_ didn’t say anything. His body language had actually gotten hurt and defensive, and I felt _bad_ about myself. I didn’t like feeling bad about myself, so I snapped at him. “Do you know the kind of guys I usually kiss? Fucking douchebags, that’s what. I’m a total slut! I’ll bang anyone who’s remotely attractive and shows an interest, and if they’re an asshole or someone my dad wouldn’t approve of, so much the better! You think I’m Rusty’s girlfriend because one of your guys saw me naked with him? What a joke, I’ve been naked with a dozen guys in the last year alone! So yeah, I guess the idea that I’d want to kiss someone actually cute and thoughtful, someone loyal and interesting who’s my own age and I have something in common with, that _is_ pretty ridiculous.”

He looked at me then, and it was me who looked away first. “You told me right before you did it that it was Plan B,” he told me flatly. “And of _course_ you want to escape. I won’t hold it against you for trying.”

“It was a _joke_ ,” I snarled. “I mean sure, I do want out of here, and it’d be great if you’d been into me and the kiss made you decide to let me go after all. But that’s not _why_ I did it!”

“Why else would you do it?” he shot back, starting to sound angry too. “You don’t even know me!”

“Cause you’re nice and I’m broken! So sue me!”

For a second there, he looked like he wanted to believe me. And when he shook his head and stared at the floor instead, it made me feel like shit.

I’d _make_ him believe me, then.

No Jane, hold up, you don’t want to do that. He’s right, you don’t know him.

Fuck it, I’m doing it. Shut up, bitch.

“My name’s Jane Impossible,” I said, searching his face and trying to get him to meet my gaze. “I tried arching as Miss Chance. When I failed at that, I henched for Madame Blue. I legally changed my name three years ago, so I’m Jane Inbras now, but it’s all on record. You can look it up if you want.”

He did finally meet my eyes, but I wasn’t sure how to read the expression on his face. “I’ve never heard about Professor Impossible having a daughter.”

“Yeah, cause he’s so proud of me.” I rolled my eyes before admitting “He was trying to protect me. And I wasn’t there when he got his powers, so I’m not really worth much.”

“That’s why you thought we’d taken you.”

I shrugged. “It’s happened before. A couple times when I was younger.”

“Does Venture know?”

“No.” I twitched my head with the denial. “I don’t go around broadcasting it. That’d kinda defeat the point of the name change, if I went around dropping Dad’s name every time I needed a favor.”

“Then what are you telling _me_ for?” Gary asked incredulously.

“Because you think I’m full of shit,” I said honestly, “and for some weird reason your opinion seems to matter to me.” I hesitated. “Though hey, I _do_ need a little favor.”

He sighed, shoulders slumping. “I can’t let you go.”

Somehow, that made me smile. “I was just going to ask you not to tell anybody!”

He took a step closer, staring at me hard. “Your dad is really Richard Impossible.”

“Yes,” I said with a decisive nod.

“And you’re really just a chemist at VenTech.” He raised his eyebrows.

“A slutty chemist,” I corrected him, in the name of honesty. “But yes.”

“And you really don’t think either Venture _or_ Impossible would turn up to ransom you.”

“I know,” I said with another nod, “it’s sad.”

“And you really want me to believe that you _didn’t_ just kiss me as part of an escape plan?”

A laugh rubbed against the back of my throat. “I was bored.”

Finally, he smiled. “And you’re really telling me that I’m the first guy you’ve kissed who’s actually been nice to you first?”

“Um….” I had to think back through, actually. What constituted _nice_? By his standards? No, probably not. “Yes.”

Gary laughed—and while he did, I kind of liked myself. “That is really, really sad.”

I grinned back at him. “I don’t really meet a lot of boy scouts.”

“I’m not a boy scout.”

I snorted.

“What? I’m not!”

I let it go. “So do you believe me?”

“Not enough to let you go,” he hedged, “but yeah.” He moved closer again. Not close enough to kiss, but close enough for an intimate conversation. “I guess. Kinda.”

“Kinda?” I smirked. “Why’s it so hard to believe a woman finds you attractive?”

He looked at me skeptically. “Because you’re gorgeous, and I’m…this.” He spread his arms, encompassing his whole body in the gesture.

I returned the skeptical look. “And what’s wrong with ‘this?’ A strong, handsome guy with nice eyes and a cute smile? Oh and I love the sideburns, by the way.” I’d rubbed my cheek against them when I was kissing him. They were soft. The hair at the back of his neck was, too. And it had still been damp—he must have taken a shower before bed. Thinking about it made me want to touch it again, do all of it again.

Judging from the look on his face, he was having some of those same feelings. “You’ve got issues, don’t you?”

“I already told you I do,” I grinned. “But that doesn’t mean I’m wrong on this. When’s the last time you looked in a mirror?” He blushed. He actually _blushed_. This guy was too much. “Haven’t you dated any, you know, nice girls?”

“No,” he said, so plainly that it made me wonder if he’d ever dated _anyone_. That seemed ridiculous to me, but then again he’d said he spent his entire adult life as a henchman. Maybe he didn’t get out much.

I chewed on my lower lip. But I’d already given him my name, what did I have to lose? “Well, I’m pretty sure I’m not a nice girl, but maybe if your Monarch doesn’t kill me tomorrow we could go out sometime.”

“He’s not going to _kill_ you!” he exclaimed. “Then he’d lose his leverage, and anyhow, I wouldn’t let him do _that_.”

“Oh, so just maim me a little bit? Maybe try mailing Rusty my little finger?” I realized I was being a bitch again and snapped my mouth shut. “Sorry. Not trying to guilt you. I just…you know, I _like_ my little fingers.” And I was already doing it again. I sighed. “See? This is why I wanted to make out! Take my mind off stuff like this!”

“You’re crazy.”

“Could be,” I admitted. “I did invent a bomb recently that sends out millions of tiny robots to burrow under your skin and shred your insides. And then I gave away my secret identity to a random henchman. Not exactly the marks of sanity.”

“Wow, seriously?”

“Huh?”

“You really made a bomb that does that?”

“Oh. Just a couple prototypes so far, but yeah.”

“That’s horrible!” He looked impressed, though. “How’d you test it?”

“Synthetic skin.”

“Oh. Good.” He was definitely relieved.

I laughed. “I’m not a _total_ monster!” We wouldn’t test it on living subjects until we had a buyer lined up. And even then it wouldn’t be human.”

“What other kinds of stuff are you working on?” he asked me.

I spent the next half hour talking his ear off. I could tell from the way his eyes glazed over here and there that some of the science went over his head, but I tried to put it in layman’s terms as much as possible because he seemed interested and I was _excited_ about my projects. I wanted to tell people about them, wanted to explain how it all worked and how I’d come up with the ideas.

“Jeez,” he remarked when I paused for breath, “how are you _not_ like, at least a level four villain? A genius femme fatal who turns out weapons like that for free?”

I accepted the compliment with a grin, but already had a very good answer to the question. “Mostly because of a total lack of self-discipline, I think. That and lack of funds.”

“What do you mean, lack of discipline? You did all of that stuff in a month!”

“Because I’m allowed to play in someone else’s lab and use someone else’s expensive supplies,” I pointed out. “You take that away and I’m just that hot waitress who can kick your ass.”

“Wait, you can fight, too?”

“I’m out of practice,” I shrugged. “That’s what I mean about self-discipline. I get super into one thing, and everything else falls by the wayside. I barely ate or slept this past month—I can barely take care of _myself_ , let alone give other people orders!”

“It’s not that hard, once you get used to it,” he told me. At some point during the conversation, he’d made himself comfortable by sitting down on the floor. I’d done the same thing, because it was easier to talk to someone when you weren’t looking down at them from your seat.

“What, giving orders?” I asked.

“Yeah. I think the trick to it is believing in what you’re saying.”

“Ooh, that sounds motivational!” I smiled at him. “Is that how you got to be the number two guy around here?”

“Kinda.” He went quiet, thinking about it. “Up until a few years ago, I mostly just _took_ orders. I didn’t want to make waves. It was easier.”

I nodded. “I know what you mean.” It was one of the reasons I hadn’t loved henching, honestly, but at least I understood the mindset.

“Then…well, all this crazy stuff happened.”

“Isn’t that kind of par for the course?” I asked, amused. The super villain game wasn’t exactly sane and calm.

“Well yeah,” Gary agreed, “but even more than usual. My best friend died, and—”

“I’m so sorry,” I interjected. Unless you counted a stuffed bunny I had as a child, I’d never had someone I’d thought of as a best friend. But I knew what it was like to have someone I loved die. “What happened? Sorry. I mean. You don’t have to talk about it.”

Gary stared down at his knees. “No, it’s okay. He was by a car when it exploded.” He glanced up at me for just long enough that I saw how haunted his eyes were. He looked back down into his lap. “It made me think about all the stupid risks we took, as henchmen. All the other guys I’d seen die. And it made me want to be better. Be, like, an advocate. Learn to actually protect them.”

Good grief, he was worse than a boy scout. He was a _hero_.

“So I trained hard, and I thought a lot. And…” He shook his head, but the thousand-yard stare had faded from his face. “Guys actually started looking up to me. Asking me for advice. It was weird. But if I knew what they should be doing, I told them. Next thing I know I’m like, the number one henchman around here.”

“Wow.” I lifted my eyebrows appreciatively. “Props, man. That’s a heck of a climb.”

“Yeah, well.” He smiled wryly. “Then it all kind of went to hell again for a while. I tried doing my own thing. Reformed villains. It didn’t work out so well.” The smile turned to a wince. “Maybe I’ll tell you about it, sometime.”

“Tell me about it now. I’m not going anywhere.”

He laughed a little. “Nope. No way. It’s embarrassing.”

Slightly disappointed, I shrugged. “Have it your way. So, how’d you wind up back with the Monarch?”

“Oh, man! That was crazy, too. I was trying to save Venture, if you can believe it. I’d been kind of…at a loose end, and his bodyguard asked for my help. But I had to put on my old uniform and go back into the Cocoon to do it, and…I guess it made me homesick? I realized that was my life, I didn’t want to be fighting against it. So I found a way to make it better, instead.”

Yup. A damn hero.

I was impressed, though. “That can’t have been easy.”

“It wasn’t! And it still isn’t perfect. The Monarch’s not always the nicest guy, but you’ve got to admire his genius and conviction. I wish I had that.”

If you asked me, he _did_ have it. But I was an outsider, I’d never even met The Monarch, what did I know. I looked over at Gary with admiration, though. I’d never made anything better in my life, unless you counted making weapons more effective.

He still had those damn goosebumps. “Are you _sure_ you don’t want your robe back?”

He shook his head stubbornly.

“Then we’ll share,” I informed him, tugging it off my shoulders and into my lap. “I’m sick of watching you shiver and be a boy scout.” I scooted closer, practically into his lap, until my back was against his broad chest. Then I shook out his robe, trying to spread it over both of us. It wasn’t easy with my wrists bound together. Gary’s arms came up around my sides, grabbing the robe in different spots and pulling it out enough to serve as a blanket. I snuggled closer, enjoying the way our body heat worked together to create a nice toasty spot where we touched. After a minute of uncertainty, he wrapped his arms around me, circling my stomach under the blanket. “Ooh,” I murmured happily, “that’s nice.”

“Okay, you are _totally_ trying to seduce me!” He sounded more amused than upset this time.

I wiggled happily against him. “I never said I didn’t want to seduce you,” I told him calmly. “Just that I didn’t want to seduce you for any reason other than my own enjoyment. And anyway, you _are_ warmer, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” he admitted reluctantly. “This isn’t how abductions are supposed to go.”

“Well that’s your fault for being nice to me,” I said serenely. “Go on. What were you saying?”

“I forgot.”

I craned my neck around so he could see my smile. “Hey, I’m on my best behavior here. I haven’t even suggested getting naked as the best way to warm up.”

“I figured that was just because you knew I’d refuse to take the ties off your legs.”

“I could have suggested it anyway, just to put the idea in your head. And you know, if you put me on my knees and elbows, you wouldn’t _need_ to free my legs.”

That was met with silence. I could feel his breathing pattern change. I craned my neck around more and saw the face of a man engaged in an epic inner struggle between good and evil. I was on the verge of retracting the comment and apologizing again when his hands moved out to my waist, turning me around and pushing me back onto the ground. He flipped himself on top of me just as smoothly and effortlessly. And he kissed me.

I knew he’d been holding back earlier, but I hadn’t realized how much until I had this for comparison. The intensity was almost scary. I brought my wrists up, and he ducked his head automatically to let me slip them around his neck again. The kiss itself, saturated with repressed desire, was enough to make me wet. Having him lying on top of me shirtless made my body ache for more. I lifted my hips to press against him over and over again. Pajama pants didn’t do much in the way of concealing his erection—even through my jeans I could feel it. I groaned and rubbed against him. Just take my shirt off, come on, just put your hand down my jeans, come on, just let me suck you off. I ran my tongue along the inside of his upper lip and felt a thrill of excitement when he groaned.

Slowly, one of his hands inched inward, not bracing himself on the floor anymore but moving up my side. I arched my back, encouraging him, and he obligingly slid his up to fully cup my left breast. It felt like he was holding his breath. I pushed my hips up again and kissed him harder, the universal sign for ‘keep going.’ He squeezed gently, then again with more confidence. I made a sound of appreciation in the back of my throat. He sat back on his knees, stopping to lift my hands gently from his neck, so he could bring his other hand up to my right breast.

I let my hands fall to the ground above me, tipped my head back, and enjoyed the sensation. I would have rather run my hands all over him, or taken initiative and pulled my shirt off, but he was getting a feel for the lay of the land and I wasn’t inclined to complain. My nipples had hardened the moment his palms grazed them, and the spandex tank top wasn’t doing much to conceal the fact. He kept pausing to trace them with his thumb or finger, as if he’d never really touched a woman’s nipples before.

And it was driving me crazy. Every time he did it, my breath caught and my back arched. “Take it off,” I asked him. “Please, take it off.” My voice came out raw and urgent, more like begging than a generous invitation.

Gary didn’t need telling twice, thankfully. He grabbed the hem of my shirt and pulled it up, not stopping until the clingy fabric was bunched around my elbows. When he put his hands onto my bare chest, I made a deep, guttural noise of enjoyment. “Keep going,” I gasped when he brushed his finger back and forth over one nipple. “Ohgodyeslikethat.” I arched into his touch, closing my eyes and feeling the heat inside me come to a full rolling boil. He brought his mouth down to my skin, and I writhed in pleasure. “That…is…incredible,” I managed, rolling my hips back and forth under him. “I want you.” I wanted him _so much_. I wanted him to push my jeans down around my ankles and take me from behind. I wanted him deep inside me, maybe leaning over my back to grope me as he thrust.

He came in close again to kiss me, leaving one hand massaging my breast. “You shouldn’t take the ties off,” I told him between moans of assent, “but you should know that I _really_ wish I could touch you.” He put his mouth back on mine, and I stopped trying to talk.

“You are so beautiful,” he said a few minutes later while I was kissing his neck. “You’re just…perfect.”

I actually stopped what I was doing to laugh breathlessly at that one. “Hardly!”

“Physically,” he amended with a smile.

“Oh,” I said, working my way around to his ear. “Then maybe.” I bit down onto his earlobe, more gently than I usually would have. I got a very positive twitch against the front of my jeans. “You should feel me.”

“Um. I thought I was?”

“You’re cute.” I tried gently biting just below his ear instead, behind his sideburn. Also a positive response. “You know what I mean.” I kissed the sensitive spot on his throat. “Put your hand down the front of my pants and feel how much I want you.”

For a second I thought he was going to object, but then he sat back and shakily unfastened my jeans. With him positioned like that, I could see where the front of _his_ pants pushed out, and wanted urgently to wrap my hand around that. Or my mouth. Or—

He moved his hand down the front of my panties, and I watched his face as his fingers brushed against the damp fabric. I smiled, and one of his fingers dipped further, sliding against me. Fuck, I wished I could spread my legs right now! “Keep going.” He pressed just slightly deeper, tantalizingly close to being inside me.

“Holy shit.” He retracted his hand quickly, like it had stung him. I was pretty sure that wasn’t the case, though. He brought his fingers up in front of his face, eyes wide. Even in lighting that left a lot to be desired, I could see how they glistened. Impulsively, I brought my hands forward to grab his, pulling it toward my mouth. He let me slide my lips over his middle finger, tasting myself on him while sucking on the appendage. It wasn’t what I _really_ wanted to suck, but it was still pretty erotic. Gary made a strangled sound in the back of his throat, so he must have felt the same way.

I removed my mouth and pushed his hand back down to my breast. “Are we doing this, or what?” I wiggled my hips against him eagerly.

“I—” He started to say something, and I waited in burning anticipation. Judging from the way his body was already responding to mine, it was going to be the answer I wanted.

But he stopped, disappointment and embarrassment appearing on his face. “I don’t have a condom.”

Oh yeah. Caves were great for atmospheric abductions, but not exactly full of convenient cabinets or drawers for stashing protection. “Fuck,” I remarked, annoyed. “I don’t either.” Not _on_ me, anyway. If I’d been at home, or if I’d even had my _purse_ , it would have been a different story. But of course here it was just me and my jeans and tank top. And Gary just had his pajamas and—wait! If he was in his pajamas, that meant he slept here. “Can’t you just run up to your room and get one?”

“And leave you here alone?”

“I promise I won’t try to escape,” I whined, really meaning it. “You can even add some extra zip ties if it makes you feel better!” Damn it, he was already shaking his head. “You could take me with you, then?” Yes, that was a great idea. Beds were better than cave floors anyhow. “Just throw me over your shoulder and take me up. You can keep a really close eye on me, that way.”

He shook his head again. “You’d wake up half the house!”

“So gag me!”

He laughed unhappily. “I never thought I’d have a beautiful woman _begging_ me to take her to my room, and I’d have to turn her down.”

“You don’t have to,” I objected.

“I can’t take you upstairs,” he said firmly.

Damn, he wasn’t budging on that one. “We could always raw dog it?” I tried.

“Dude!” He couldn’t quite meet my eyes, suddenly. “You _told me_ you, uh, get around. I don’t really need any STDs, thanks.”

Well he had my number there. “Oh come on,” I tried anyway, “I use protection! I don’t have anything. I’ve been tested!”

“Since you slept with Venture?” he demanded skeptically.

Ugh, I couldn’t lie to him. He was too nice. “No,” I admitted sulkily.

“Aww,” he sighed in disappointment. I felt like that summed up the moment pretty well.

We stared at each other in unhappy silence for a little while. “So now what?” I asked.

“We could keep making out,” he suggested hopefully.

“You sure you want to make out with someone who, uh, gets around?” I mimicked his phrasing, because it hid how pleased I was that he still seemed into me.

“Uh, _yeah_?” He grinned, relief in his face too. “I could do this all night!”

“That’s going to get super frustrating,” I warned him.

Gary shrugged it off. “I get to touch boobs. I’ll deal.”


	3. Chapter 3

The rest of the night was a haze—no, a blur—no, a haze. But the good kind. We made out for a while longer, and when the frustration became unbearable we took a break and just... _talked_. Well, not _just_ talked. We curled half-naked under his robe together and talked. He told me about his friend, 24, and how gradually after his death The Monarch had sort of taken his place. He admitted that he was a virgin, which seemed _insane_ , but also made me somehow very flattered at how close he’d come to doing me.

We made out for a while again after that. This time when he put his hand down my pants, he really explored. He got the hang of it remarkably quickly, prodding and teasing until I came. I wanted more, but that certainly helped the frustration. It didn’t seem fair, though. With a little experimenting, I figured out how to move my hands to return the favor without taking off any zip ties. I’d definitely given _better_ hand jobs, but the fact that I wanted to at all had him on the brink before I did a single thing.

In addition to its lack of condoms, the cave had an unforgivable lack of tissue. We cleaned up with my shirt, since it was still bunched around my wrists and not really in use, and relaxed under the robe. I remember he dozed off before I did, and I _considered_ crawling away from him and up the stairs while he was out. I wouldn’t be the first time I’d run out on a guy while he was sleeping. But this felt different, somehow, even though I had a better excuse for leaving in some ways. Figures I’d finally meet a nice guy I actually liked _while I was being held hostage._ That was just…yep, that was my life alright.

Anyway, I didn’t make a break for it, and I dozed off, too. When I woke up, he was still asleep—but I needed to pee. Badly. I held it for a while, because I knew he’d hardly slept, and he was kind of cute in his sleep. But eventually my body demanded a solution, so I nudged him gently with my shoulder and asked where the bathroom was. Thankfully, they’d installed one in the cave when (as he told me) they’d renovated the whole place. I got to relieve myself in an actual toilet. Getting my pants back up afterward was a job, though.

Since we were both awake again, we went back to sharing body heat and talking. I told him more about my unsatisfactory childhood, what it had been like henching for Madame Blue, and how I’d gotten bored of waiting tables and sought out VenTech as a solution. He kind of dozed off again, but I didn’t hold it against him. Since I didn’t have anything else to do and was somehow _still_ sleep deprived, I passed back out too. I woke to his hand stroking my bare shoulder, which I decided I liked. I shifted myself up so that he was touching my breast, instead. And then we were kissing again.

“What the _hell_ is going on?” said a shrill male voice from the top of the stairs. Gary jerked back from me at once, sitting up guiltily. A figure appeared on the stairs, tall and thin, dressed in black and orange. Well. Great. Fuck.

“Um,” said Gary, looking just like a teenager caught in the act. He cast me one frantic glance, which I returned blankly. Don’t look to me for the answer, man, he’s _your_ boss! What the hell was _I_ supposed to do?

The Monarch had reached the bottom of the stairs and was now standing close enough that I could see his ridiculously oversized eyebrows. Gary shoved the robe fully onto me and got to his feet. “Um,” he said again. “She’s not actu—”

“Oh my God, this is _brilliant_!” The Monarch exclaimed, clapping his hands together in delight. “21, you tricky bastard! Defiling his woman, I love it!” He threw an arm over Gary’s shoulders. “Bit dark for you, though, isn’t it? Oh well, it’ll drive Venture _nuts_! This is _way_ better than my plan to mail him her fingers one by one!”

Gary glanced over at me. I cocked my eyebrow, silently saying _See?_

“She’s not—” he tried again.

“No, not bad, is she! I don’t know _how_ an idiot like him got a woman that looks like _that_. Money, I suppose. Hm.” He surveyed me. I glared at him. Gary looked uncomfortable. “I only wish you’d told me and Dr. My Wife what you were planning. Think how much more diabolical it would have been if we’d joined in!”

My lip curled, and this time the silent glance I shot at Gary said plainly _Is this guy for real?_ “Dude, that’s fucked up.”

He seemed mildly surprised that I’d actually spoken. “I’m a bad guy, sweetie, it’s what I _do_. Nothing personal. You understand.”

“I think I’ve got it covered,” Gary came to my rescue.

“Yes, of course. You’re far less attractive than me and my wife! Much better insult this way, if she’s sullied by a lowly henchman.”

I opened my mouth to make an indignant comment to the tune of him not being _nearly_ as attractive as he seemed to think he was, but I shut it again quickly. Better not.

Gary seemed to be having some sort of internal debate. Luckily for me, The Monarch seemed to be too delighted with his victory to notice. “You should have told me! I could at least have taken pictures to send him. Ooh, this is going to just _destroy_ him! 21! Boot up the computer! No, wait! Go get my camera so I can take pictures first! No, wait! I can get some off the surveillance footage. That’ll be even better.”

Panic danced across Gary’s face at the mention of the footage. I wasn’t sure if he didn’t want his boss knowing I’d enjoyed myself, or if he just didn’t want his boss watching him get off on camera. Either way, he formulated a cover quickly. “Nah, the camera’s all grainy and the audio’s out of synch. I’ll get the good camera and you can snap a few better ones to send him.” Then he paused uncertainly. “Um. Where is it?”

“It’s on the mantle in the parlor.” The Monarch had taken a seat at his giant computer as Gary hurried to hit the buttons that apparently fired it up. 

“No it’s not,” Gary objected, shaking his head. “I was going to bring it down with me earlier, and it wasn’t there.”

“What?” The Monarch snapped. “That’s preposterous! I put it there right after we brought her back here and sent the first pictures!”

“Well it’s not there now,” Gary said stubbornly. “Somebody must’ve moved it.”

The Monarch stood back up irately, sweeping his wings behind him as he started for the stairs. “I will _prove_ to you that it’s right there!”

“Okay, prove it to me!” Gary retorted. “You’re not gonna find it! I bet Six borrowed it to photograph some flowers or something!” The second The Monarch was out of hearing range, he turned his attention back to me. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t know what else to do! The surveillance system has audio and everything, he can’t watch it!”

I lifted one shoulder and let it fall. “Eh, it’s no big deal. Not the first time someone recorded me naked without telling me, sadly.”

He blinked at me. “Well that’s just…that’s awful. So, wait. You’re okay with this?”

“With what? Letting him take a few pervy pictures? I’m not crazy about him watching us make out, but sure, whatever, if it gets me out of here with all my digits.”

“And all your secrets,” he added, and I realized the _real_ reason he felt like he couldn’t let The Monarch watch the tape. The whole thing had audio…including me telling him my real name. I didn’t know if his boss—and supposedly friend—would make hay of me being an Impossible for not, but the fact that Gary hadn’t hesitated to lie so I could keep the secret made me feel weird. A little bit like being excited, and a little bit like being nauseas.

I smiled at him. “What about you? _You’re_ totally cool with compromising photos?”

“Not really,” he admitted, “but I’ve done worse things for the job.”

That wasn’t hard to believe. “Hm.” I cocked an eyebrow invitingly at him. “Wanna get started before he comes back, then?” Maybe if we were already into it, it wouldn’t be so awkward. I shoved his robe out of the way.

I was still topless underneath it. “Might be a good idea,” he conceded. He’d gravitated away from the computer and back to my side as we spoke.

“Should I try to look like I’m not enjoyi—” I snapped my mouth shut on the question as both of us heard the Monarch reemerge at the top of the stairs.

“Ha!” he crowed. “I _told_ you it was right there! Honestly, it’s like you didn’t even _look_!”

Undoubtedly because he hadn’t. I shot Gary one last conspiratorial grin, grateful he’d bought us that extra time to confer.

“I’m telling you, it wasn’t there earlier,” he said stubbornly. “Someone must have borrowed it and then put it back.”

“Right, because we’ve got so many amateur photographs around here,” The Monarch said sarcastically, but he didn’t really seem upset about any of it. On the contrary, he still seemed creepily pleased about this entire scenario. “Right, so—go over there and make it look good.”

“Make it look good?” Gary demanded. “What does _that_ mean?”

“What do you _mean,_ what does it mean? You’ve watched porn, right? Make it look good!”

“We weren’t having _sex_ ,” he protested, sounding almost scandalized.

“Oh.” The Monarch looked disappointed. “Well, make it look like you are. That’s an order!”

Damn it, I had to say something. I cleared my throat and sat up. “Look, if we’re talking about making it look good, I need to know. You want me to try and fight back? Or should I look like I’m in the middle of an earth-shattering orgasm for every shot?” He stared at me, and I shrugged. “What? Give me some direction here.”

The Monarch looked at Gary. “She doesn’t seem very upset about this.” He looked back at me. “Shouldn’t you be…protesting, or something?”

I met his gaze evenly. “I don’t know. Is that what you want, Mr. Director?”

He narrowed his eyes. “That _is_ the right girl, isn’t it, 21?”

“Uh-huh!”

I wished I could cross my arms defiantly under my chest, but whatever. “What makes you think Rusty would date a prude?” I asked coolly. That wasn’t even a lie, and I silently congratulated myself for it.

“Cause he’s a jealous douche,” The Monarch exclaimed at once. “He _almost_ slept with my wife once, and he spent _weeks_ trying to convince—why am I even telling you this?” He shook his head before stepping uncomfortably close and giving me a predatory smile. “Let me summarize—your boyfriend’s a pathetic loser.”

“Yeah, I got you’re not his biggest fan.” I faked a yawn. “Look, can we get this over with? I’ve already missed a whole shift at work. Wait, no.” What time was it? “Two shifts! And you still haven’t answered my question.”

It took him a second to remember what the question had been. The stepped back, waving a hand at Gary in irritation. “I don’t know. Just…do whatever you were doing when I came down here.”

“Okay,” he muttered warily, sinking down onto the floor beside me. While his back was blocking my face from the camera, I flashed him a reassuring smile. He leaned in close above me, starting his fingers at the nape of my neck and moving his hand down in an arc toward my chest. My heart sped up the second he touched me, and I definitely didn’t have to fake my pleasure when he ran his hands over my breasts and down my waist.

“Wait!” The Monarch said, and I wanted to smack him. “You’re blocking everything! Go around to the other side!”

Looking resigned, Gary got up and moved around to my other side. I stretched my bound wrists up above my head and tried to look vulnerable and distressed. I managed to keep that façade in place up until the moment he tipped my head back and kissed my throat. I gasped and arched my back, waiting for him to cup my breasts again. When he did, my hips rose upward. If my legs had been free, my knees would have fallen apart at a wide angle. He rubbed his fingers over my nipples, and I groaned and twisted my head from side to side. He moved his face in closer, nuzzling the side of my breast before bringing his mouth to it.

The way he sucked on me drove me absolutely up the wall. All pretext of not being into it went out the window. I inhaled sharply, back arching so hard half my body must have left the floor. He kept going, and I moaned as I brought my arms down over his head and shoulders, coaxing him in the direction I wanted until he was straddling me and kissing me. I managed to forget all about the camera until a voice from surprisingly close said “Oh man, this is _hot_.”

Both of us jolted, heads snapping over to see The Monarch with his camera barely a yard away. “No, seriously, I’m impressed,” he said frankly. “I didn’t know you had it in you, 21! So hey, you—whatever your name is. Is he better than Rusty?”

I knew it was for the camera, but I didn’t really care. “Yes,” I said simply, and pulled Gary back down to kiss me again.

“Okay, okay, enough of that!” he interrupted us. “Now take her pants off!”

“ _Dude_ ,” Gary told him, sounding exasperated, “you are making it _really_ hard to get into this!”

“Well excuse me,” The Monarch responded tartly, “this memory chip is like, ninety-percent full. I don’t know what it’s full of, _I_ never use it, but I’d rather not run out of space so maybe we could wrap this up sometime today?”

“Fine,” Gary sighed dramatically, and I had to bite my lip to keep from laughing. The whole thing was just so fucking ridiculous. Then he tugged my pants down, working them over my hips and down around my knees and calves, and everything but lust and anticipation went right out the window. Again, I tried to look like I _wasn’t_ excited for him to touch me. I have a feeling I failed miserably, but at least no one voiced any complaints with my performance.

“Nice,” The Monarch muttered right when I was getting close to an orgasm. “Okay, now you just need to do her—”

“Nope,” his number two told him flatly.

“What! She’s not complaining, look at her! Go for it!”

“Nope,” he repeated stubbornly. “I’m not getting naked in front of the camera. That’s just…that’s weird, man.”

The Monarch sighed, even more dramatically than Gary had. “Fine, whatever, I guess this’ll do. Help me turn it into something we can e-mail to him.”

Gary got up. I lay on the ground, mostly naked and definitely annoyed. “Great. So can I go home now?”

“Yeah, sure, why not.” The Monarch was already pulling the data chip out of the camera. I really hoped Rusty didn’t fire me after this. According to our agreement, I didn’t think he could…but I wasn’t as confident about that as I’d have liked. Oh well, at least I still had all my fingers.

“Um?” I held up my zip-tied wrists pointedly.

He barely glanced at me. “Oh, right. 21, cut her loose. She’s got a shirt around here somewhere, right?”

“Should I give her a ride home?” Gary asked, pulling a pocketknife out of a drawer.

“What are we, a taxi service for Venture’s skanks? Let her find her own way! We have work to do!”

I saw the apologetic wince flicker over Gary’s face as he knelt down to snip my wrists free. “Don’t worry, I can get myself home,” I assured him. Then I promptly cringed as full blood flow returned to my hands. I shook them as he cut the tie on my ankles. I convinced my hands to cooperate enough to pull my shirt back down into its proper place. He pulled his bathrobe back on as I tugged my jeans back up. It occurred to me that I probably looked like a total train wreck. “Can you at least show me the door?” I asked plaintively.

He didn’t ask permission this time. “Yeah, sure. I’ll make sure she doesn’t steal anything on the way out,” he told The Monarch, and put a hand on my elbow to guide me toward the stairs. “Be right back.”

“Have a nice night,” The Monarch called after us with what I thought was sarcasm. “Give my best to Dr. Venture.” Yep, definitely sarcasm.

“Well that was awkward,” Gary said quietly once we’d passed through the door. We were in the study of what looked like a ritzy but normal house now. Daylight was coming in the window.

I had to blink a few times. “Don’t worry about it. You got me out of there without spilling my secrets or any blood. And I kind of had fun. What time _is_ it?”

“It’s gotta be past eight now.” He walked into the hall, looking both ways as if he expected more people to turn up. “Hold on. I’ll call you an Uber.”

“Didn’t The Monarch just tell you not to do that?”

“He just didn’t want me to spend his money on it.”

I followed him down the hall and up a flight of stairs, where he opened the door of what turned out to be a bedroom. His bedroom, I assumed, though it looked more like a teenager’s. Posters and weird comic memorabilia everywhere. The sort of décor that’s so geeky it’s actually cool. Gary went straight to the dresser and picked up his phone. “It’s 8:20,” he told me as I checked out his bookshelf. It was a mishmash of special edition DVDs, comics, books, and graphic novels. I spotted a few I recognized. “Nice, _The Last Command_! Thrawn was the best Star Wars villain since Vader.”

He looked up from his phone in surprise. “You’ve read them?”

“Of course I read them! Lonely rich girl locked up in a tower all my childhood, remember? I had to do _something_ when my dad wasn’t letting me play with deadly chemicals. I spent half a year trying to figure out how to make a real lightsaber.”

“Did you?” he asked eagerly.

“No,” I said sadly. “Too much physics for a twelve-year-old. I did make some pretty sweet laser light shows, though.” I grinned at the memory.

“Dude, that is totally awesome!” His voice squeaked in excitement at the very idea.

My grinned stretched out into a laugh. “You would have loved it. I did make some that _looked_ pretty real. It was just light, though. It couldn’t actually cut through anything.” I’d been seriously disappointed with that at the time. “I could make you one. I bet VenTech has some acrylic to make a strong, retractable plastic frame. You know, the same concept they use for those cheap ones you buy in the toy aisle at the store. A flick of the wrist and the plastic blade extends. Only if it’s actually designed well, you won’t see the plastic frame until it’s fully extended. If you press the button for the colored light at the same time, the effect is pretty sweet.”

“So the plastic’s solid? I bought a fancy replica years ago—from Venture, actually!—but it was just light. Couldn’t hit anything.”

“No kidding, Rusty made that?” I was impressed! He’d struck me as the type to outsource his inventions. “Well, mine can’t sever metal or flesh, but it’ll still hurt if you whack someone with it.”

“Wait, you’re offering to make me a real lightsaber? On Venture’s dime?”

“Almost-real.” I fought very hard to keep a guilty smile from spreading over my face, and lost the battle. “I guess I am. Oops?” It turned into another laugh. Everything was insane. I’d been abducted for being Rusty’s girlfriend, which I wasn’t even, spent the night with a sweet henchman I totally wanted to fuck but hadn’t, bared parts of my soul to him, made out with him in front of his _boss_ , and now we were discussing Star Wars. I mean really, what the fuck. “Assuming he doesn’t fire me, that is,” I added, still giggling.

Gary looked distressed at that idea. “He wouldn’t do that, would he? You said you’re not dating!”

“Nope.” I shoved my hands in my pockets, glad to be able to do that again. “But that doesn’t rule out his ability to act like a jealous douche.” I considered. “I don’t think he will, though. My product ideas could actually make him money. And he’d probably enjoy keeping me around so he can act butthurt and make snide comments, rather than just making me go away.” I nodded. “I think I should be okay. So—blue, or green?”

“You are the coolest girl ever,” he told me seriously.

My insides suddenly felt the way they used when Dad’s personal pilot wanted to show off and rolled the plane. “Good,” I told him, still feeling like my heart was up in my throat. “Then you’ll call me, right?”

His brow furrowed. “I don’t think I have your number.”

“Oh shit, I better give it to you then.” My smile felt too wide. It hurt. “Don’t want you having to kidnap me again.”

His phone was still in his hand. “Okay, let me…crap, your ride is here.”

I rolled my eyes and grabbed his phone. I pulled up a new text message, typed in my own number, and put it on his dresser. “There. Done.” I reached up to put one hand on either side of his face. It was really nice, being able to _do_ that. I’d been intending to pull his head down to kiss him, but he anticipated my moves, leaning down and pulling me in close. I let my hands slide down to his shoulders, liking the way his muscles felt, and _really_ liking the way his mouth moved against mine.

It was a great kiss. But it was just a kiss. My heart shouldn’t have still felt like it was lodged in my throat as he showed me to the front door. I stopped halfway down the path to the street. “You never told me what color you want!” I called, turning back toward the door.

“Blue! I gotta go!” He waved and shut the front door.

I walked the rest of the way to the Uber with a little extra bounce in my step. Working for Rusty Venture really _was_ turning out well for me.


	4. Chapter 4

“You’re fired.”

“Ex _cuse_ me?”

“I said you’re fired.” Rusty was doing his best to look superior and dismissive.

“No I’m not,” I told him combatively, hands on my hips.

“Don’t make me have Brock kick you out.”

I narrowed my eyes. “You agreed that this job was _not_ contingent on me putting out. You have no say in my personal life whatsoever.”

“Fine, then you’re fired for missing a whole day of work yesterday. You didn’t even call in.”

“I’d been _kidnapped_! I was _unconscious!_ ” I was furious. “And you _know_ I was unconscious, because they sent you _photos_!”

“Oh, you want to bring up _photos_?” he retorted, the hurt starting to show through his arrogance. “Just wait’ll the press gets hold of these! I’m going to be a laughingstock!”

I set my teeth. “You’d be a laughingstock _if_ the press thought we were an item—which as far as I know, they _don’t_ , because we’re _not_.”

He completely ignored me. “And _then_ you turn up here late today—”

“I had to go home and _shower!_ ” I’d gotten a look at myself in the mirror when the Uber delivered me back at my apartment. Exactly as much of a train wreck as I’d expected. No make-up, stained and grubby clothes, hair a dark mass of knots and split ends. And Gary had told me I was beautiful. Moron. My lips twitched upward a little at the thought.

“What’re you smiling about?” Rusty sounded petulant.

I covered quickly, very glad I’d taken the time to stop home and get cleaned up. “Oh come on, Rusty.” I softened my tone until it was almost a purr. “You’re jealous. It’s cute.”

“I am not,” he said unconvincingly.

I walked over and sat down sideways in his lap, putting an arm around him as I did. I smiled again. “It’s cute,” I repeated. “You _have_ to know it didn’t mean anything. They kidnapped me and held me hostage. You’ve been there! What was I supposed to do? I agreed to a little video and they let me go home. It was nothing.” Right, that’s why I had self-disgust crawling up the back of my throat right now. “You know it was nothing, but you’re still upset.” I kissed his cheek. “Tell the truth, now. You’re just upset because you didn’t get to be my knight in shining armor, aren’t you.”

He liked being presented in that light. It won me the beginnings of a smile. “Maybe a little.” I noticed his posture relaxing. Crisis averted, hopefully. “I was worried about you.”

I somehow doubted that, because I’d already seen Pete and Billy _and_ Brock before he called me up here, and none of them had said a damn thing about my absence yesterday. But the scenario was clearly the most flattering to him, and flattery was going to be what let me keep playing in a fantastic lab. “Aww, really?” I rubbed my nose affectionately along his weak jaw, pressing my lips briefly against his neck. My heart speed up as I did it, but it felt more like anxiety than excitement. “Nothing to worry about.” I splayed my hand against his chest. “I’m fine. Just don’t make me leave.” Cue the sad puppy dog eyes and pouty lip. Ugh, I really kind of hated myself right now.

“Maybe I was a bit hasty,” Rusty said, sounding like he wanted to believe it.

“Just a little.” I gave him my best smile. “I didn’t have a _choice_ about what I did in front of The Monarch’s camera. Coming back here _was_ my choice.” I softened my voice even more. “I like it here.”

“You _do_ come up with some fantastic ideas,” he agreed, moving his hands over my thighs and hips. “I wouldn’t want to lose that, if this is really where you want to be.”

“Of _course_ it is!” Well VenTech was, anyway. I kissed his cheek again. “I’m sorry I upset you.”

“I suppose I can overlook it.” His own voice had dipped into the seductive range, so I wasn’t surprised when he kissed me.

I wasn’t my most enthusiastic, but I still kissed him back. With it came a flood of relief that the crisis was definitely averted. And then he kept kissing me and the relief got washed away by a deep sense of unease. I wasn’t enjoying myself. I felt…bad. I tried to push through it, but my heart did that nasty little anxiety thing again. Damn it!

As gently as I could, I pushed Rusty back as I pulled out of the kiss. “I’m sorry,” I said, trying to look sincere while silently cursing myself. “I’m not really in the mood, after everything last night.” That was completely true, but my self-disgust didn’t magically disappear when I said the words. “You can understand that, right?”

“I guess so.” He wasn’t thrilled, but he also wasn’t a bad guy, deep down. He accepted it.

“And you’re not going to fire me over it?” I checked, just to be sure. “I mean, seriously, the alternative was them mailing you my fingers.”

“What kind of monster do you think I am?” That part must be news to him—he looked genuinely scandalized. “You must be a mess! Do you want a drink or something?”

A drink, right. Undoubtedly to help me relax and cry on his shoulder. I could practically see it playing out in his head. For once, I thought I’d pass. “No, I kind of just want to get back to work. Make up for yesterday, you know?” I stood up. “You don’t know if Billy maintained the temp on those cultures, do you?”

Rusty blinked at me stupidly. “I have no idea.”

“Crap!” He probably had. He was a good scientist, too. But now that I’d thought of it, I wasn’t going to be able to _stop_ thinking about it until I went to see for myself. If the control on those hadn’t stayed completely stable, I was going to have to scrap the whole bunch and start over. It wasn’t even an excuse to get out of the penthouse anymore.

But it was a really good excuse to stop thinking about why I wanted to.

* * *

The cultures were doing just fine. After establishing that, I spent the remainder of the morning fine-tuning the explosive mechanism for the nanobot bombs and rechecking my calculations on the memory serum. The only remarkable thing about the rest of the day, in fact, was that I actually took a lunch break. I used it to track down some thin, clear acrylic and flip through the instruction manual for the machine that would let me shape and seal it the way I wanted. The pieces for the hilt would have to wait till tomorrow, but it was a start. I also called up my ob-gyn to see when I could get tested—because having an official clean bill of health felt more important than it had last week, somehow. I called up my boss at the club, too, to make up some lame excuse about being really, really sick the past two days and beg for his forgiveness. It was only after all that was accomplished that I thought to check my text messages, because usually the only time someone texted me was if a coworker wanted to swap shifts or something.

This new message was considerably more exciting. It shouldn’t have been. It was from a local number, no name attached, and only said _Did you make it home safe?_ But just seeing it made me feel like I’d overdosed on caffeine. I wrote back immediately with an affirmative and saved the number in my contacts. He texted again while I was doing that. _Still have your job?_

_Yes, though I thought for a minute there I didn’t. He was PISSED._

_Ha! I can tell M that, right? Venture played it pretty cool in his response._

_Much as I hate to do anything that makes that creep happy…yeah, go ahead and tell him._

_Thanks. I’d ask what you’re doing tonight but I’ve got work stuff._

_Me too. Boss for my 2 nd job wasn’t too thrilled with me either, can’t really b_

“Ooh, who you texting?”

My thumb slipped sideways and I sent the message prematurely as I guiltily jerked my head up from my phone. Billy and Pete were back from lunch.

“Nobody,” I said at once, shoving my phone back into my purse. “Just checking the news.”

“Yeah right.” Pete looked entertained. “Nobody smiles like that when they’re reading the news.”

“You were definitely texting,” Billy agreed. “I saw your thumbs moving.”

“Oooh, yeah, you caught me.” I wiggled my fingers theatrically. “I was texting someone on my lunchbreak. You broke this case wide open!”

Sadly, my sarcasm did nothing to deter them. “Interesting that you were taking a lunch break at all,” Billy observed. “I’ve never seen you do that before.”

“And after coming in late, too,” Pete pointed out. “Next thing we know you’ll actually be, I dunno, eating food or something. Did they update your programming to include real human emotions?”

I crossed my arms and glared at him. “What’s the problem, White? Can’t handle the idea that a woman might do your job better than you do, so you have to pretend I’m a robot?”

He wasn’t remotely wounded by the barb. In fact, he seemed more amused than ever. “Meow, wake up on the wrong side of someone else’s bed today?” He mimed claws. Billy laughed.

“Ha, ha.” I rolled my eyes. Ordinarily I wouldn’t have minded the razzing, but I was irritated that they’d interrupted my text conversation. “Don’t you guys have some slacking off you need to get down to?”

“Man, she _is_ cranky,” Billy lisped in sotto to Pete.

My arms stayed crossed. _Just go away already so I can get my phone back out!_ “I can still hear you.”

“You come back to work a little too soon, maybe?” Pete looked he could maybe start getting mildly concerned for me sometime in the future if this sort of cattiness continued.

“I shouldn’t have missed it at all,” I retorted through gritted teeth. “Now could you leave me alone? I’ve…got an important e-mail to respond to.”

“You know we have computers for that,” Pete remarked, straight-faced.

“Hey, I know what would cheer you up,” Billy said brightly. I’m sure he actually _thought_ he was being helpful. “Wanna take a spin in the Murder Bot?”

Alright, that got my interest. “The what now?”

“I thought we weren’t supposed to get that out anymore.”

“This is _clearly_ an emergency!”

“You just want an excuse to take it for another spin!”

“Can you _blame_ me? That thing is awesome!”

Pete hesitated. I raised my eyebrows, waiting for one of them to fill me in. “Yeah, okay,” he said instead, grinning. “Let’s go for it. You’re gonna love this,” he promised as they dragged me off to the area where most of the outdated machines and rejected inventions seemed to get stashed.

The Murder Bot turned out to be some sort of mech that (they claimed) had been invented by Rusty’s brother for intensive mining. Murder Bot did seem like a much more apt name, though Suicide Bot would have been even better. I nearly killed myself in it about six times.

It was also _incredibly_ fun.

“Run, rebel scum!” I wrestled with the controls, shrieking “Pew! Pew!” like a kid as I tried to follow Billy’s vehicle around the floor. “Fear the wrath of Galactic Empire!” Holy shit, Gary would _love_ this, I knew it instinctively. I had to find a way to sneak him in here. I changed gears (figuratively as well as literally) and started chasing Pete instead. “Hey, why haven’t we developed a real AT-AT yet? Or an Evangelion! Exclusive toys for billionaire’s kids. Have your own Unit 00! VenTech makes your nerd dreams come true!”

“You are _terrifying_ ,” Pete told me when eventually I climbed down on rubbery legs.

“You’re a _geek,_ ” Billy exclaimed delightedly.

“You thought I wasn’t?” I was genuinely confused by that. “I’m a _scientist_. The best Christmas present I ever got was my own bunson burner when I was eight. I spent my teenage years watching anime alone in my bedroom just like you dorks.”

“Yeah but…” Billy shrugged. “You’re like, smoking hot. And you never take breaks or want to hang out after work or anything.”

“Yeah, cause I _work_ ,” I reminded him.

He didn’t need reminding, it seemed. “Right. At some cool night club!”

I lifted an eyebrow. “I think you are seriously overestimating the glamor of opening beer bottles at Costume Party.”

“Aw man, that’s what it’s called? It even _sounds_ cool!”

“I still wanna know who she was texting earlier.”

“None of your business, that’s who.” This time I was smiling when I said it, but it did make me itch to get back to my text conversation.

“So not Rusty, then?”

I groaned in frustration. “Not you, too? Why does everyone assume my life revolves around Rusty?!”

“Um, cause you’re the closest thing he’s had to a girlfriend for as long as I’ve known him,” Billy answered promptly.

“Everyone?” Pete raised an eyebrow. He was pretty astute sometimes.

“Everyone,” I repeated firmly.

“Oh, I get it.” He flipped his hair and smiled, folding his pale arms over his chest.

“What?” Billy looked back and forth between us.

“Jane’s got a real boyfriend, and she’s all bent outta shape cause she can’t shake Rusty.”

That was _way_ too close to the truth. I scowled at him. “I don’t _do_ boyfriends.”

“Right. How’s that working out for you?”

“I should have stepped on you with the Murder Bot,” I told him. He laughed. I picked up a pistol and mortar and started grinding some sulfur. “Now go away. I need to get back to work.”

* * *

It was a good thing I didn’t do boyfriends. The scheduling was a nightmare.

I didn’t around to texting Gary back again until 5:30 that day, at which point I guess he was busy with something for The Monarch because he didn’t respond. I found his reply waiting for me when I got off my shift at one in the morning and wrote back immediately. He replied at once, so I had to ask what he was doing up and got a long answer about organizing training for the new Fluttering Horde recruits. I was so into our conversation I nearly missed my stop on the L. Not smart. I’d just been kidnapped out of my own home two days ago, you’d think I’d be a little more paranoid!

I made it home safe despite myself, and immediately went back to texting. I had to finish telling him about my day, after all. Had it only been just this morning that I’d seen him? It felt like a hundred years ago. I washed off my make-up and stripped down to my panties in between tapping out my thoughts on seminars for newbie henchmen. Then I hit the lights, slipped between the covers, and spent forty-five minutes texting in the dark.

The discussion by then _did_ include an attempt to make plans for the next day. Unfortunately, his boss rarely bothered to fill him in on any special duties that might be required. Just because there was nothing planned didn’t mean The Monarch wouldn’t take it into his head to do something impulsive. And anyway, all I had to work with was 90 minutes between VenTech and Costume Party. Or afterward. Should we meet up afterward? We made tentative plans, but I was half expecting him to have to bail at the last minute.

Which was good because that was exactly what happened. Villain stuff—no sleep for the wicked, right? Personally, I thought I fit the “wicked” description a lot better than Gary, but with him unavailable I wound up crashing out an hour after I got home from the club. I got more sleep than usual as a result, but I fell asleep thinking about him. My stomach kept doing the dippy plane-roll trick whenever I did, too. Ugh, what was _wrong_ with me? There was nothing so damn special about this guy. He was just a _henchman_!

The next day it was Saturday, meaning I had nowhere to be until seven pm, meaning odds of actually catching each other in person were considerably higher. Unfortunately, I woke to a text sent at six in the morning that he’d just gotten in and was going to bed. I tried to go back to sleep after that, but my body refused to listen. I was tempted to shoot Rusty a message and see if I could go play in the lab, but I had a hunch that he’d offer to join me. Okay, time to make use of that gym membership I kept paying for. My kickboxing skills were getting sloppy anyway, and I’d spent too much time being sedentary this past week. My muscles were going to lose their tone if I didn’t step it up.

After a few hours of working out I needed to get back home and take a shower. I drank a bunch of water with a couple of my protein tablets and surfed the internet for a little bit. All my emails were boring junk. Despite taking my name off the list three times, I still got stockholder mass messages from Impossible Industries. Oh, but the Dune miniseries was on my streaming service now, that was cool. I remembered watching that when I was, what, ten? I’d made popcorn and turned our living room into a movie theater. Dad had been out, but my bodyguard had been a good sport. He hadn’t even turned it off when the naked women came on.

I threw that on and held various yoga poses while watching. It didn’t do the book justice, but it was a good distraction. Sure, I kept checking my phone for new messages every time I changed positions, but I wasn’t thinking about Gary _constantly_.

This was ridiculous, I scolded myself when the second episode wrapped up. I was not going to get all stupid over a guy. Wondering whether he’d spent his prepubescent years reading Frank Herbert and Orson Scott Card and Douglas Adams like I had was a waste of time. It was my day off! What would I normally be doing with this time?

Well, pretty much just…this. I’d have slept in and gone to the gym, dicked around on the internet, read a book, daydreamed about some new bomb I wanted to try making. What had I been doing back before I got my chemistry job? Binging zombie shows and trying to teach myself knife-throwing. (No way was I getting my security deposit back on this place now.) Oh, maybe hooked up with one of the guys from the gym or Costume Party. Maybe it _was_ a good thing I was getting tested on Monday. Yeah, I felt fine, and I was good about using protection. But did I really trust myself? Hell no. The _only_ thing I trusted myself on was my scientific knowledge.

Just after one o’clock, my phone beeped. I dropped out of a flying pigeon pose way faster than I should have, bouncing up and grabbing it off my bed. _I’m up. Want to grab brunch somewhere?_

 _Yes,_ I replied immediately without stopping to think. _Where?_

The answering pause was long enough to make me anxious. Finally, after a few minutes, it came. _Crap, M took the car. You want to meet up in Newark, or should I come to you?_

The Henchman from Jersey. I smirked at that, probably relieved that had been the only reason for his delay in answering. I got the impression he was trying not to let on that he was embarrassed about his lack of transportation, but I could have cared less. Who _does_ have a car in New York, honestly? _I’ll come. I’ve got nothing to do till seven, and if I take the PATH I can be there in an hour._

Did that come on too strong? I sounded overeager, didn’t I. He was going to think I was desperate. Fuck! And I wasn’t even dressed for a date. Shit! I jumped up and rifled through my tiny closet while waiting for his next text. I had a red sweater tank dress with a big retro zipper down the front, that was kind of fun and sexy. I swapped out my yoga clothes for that, along with a black front-clasp bra and matching thong. I dug out some strappy ankle boots to go with it, but postponed putting them on as I pulled my hair up into a top knot.

_OK, cool. You like pancakes, right? There’s an IHOP on Bergen St._

I saw the text in the middle of applying lipstick and glanced back at my reflection in the mirror. I looked damn fine, if I did say so myself. I did not look like I was going to the International House of Pancakes.

Oh well, fuck it. I dabbed my lips one last time, strapped my boots on, and headed for the Carroll St. Station.

* * *

An hour and ten minutes later, the smell of bacon grease hit me in the face as I walked in the doors of a beige brick building. Gary was waiting for me just inside, dressed in tan cargo pants and a blue collared shirt. For a split second he kept looking past me, like he was waiting for someone else. Then I smiled at him, and his eyes widened. “Jane? Oh wow, you look…wow.”

My grin widened. “I know, I clean up pretty nice.” I looked him up and down appreciatively. “So do you.”

He _blushed_. Fucking adorable. And then he looked around the crowded family restaurant and blushed harder. “I should have taken you someplace fancy.”

“It’s not _your_ fault I overdressed,” I pointed out, stepping closer so that my shoulder brushed against his arm. “I’m just excited to see you again.” Did I just say that out loud? You _moron_ , what’s gotten into you? “Because apparently I’m a total dork.”

Before I could react, he turned and put his arms around me, huge biceps pulling me snug up against his huge chest. I was momentarily puzzled as my body gave me conflicting fight or fuck signals, and then I realized it was a _hug_. I knew, theoretically, that people embraced one another just because they were happy to see each other. But damned if I could think of the last time it had happened to me. My smile felt frozen as I stretched my arms around his sides, weakly returning the gesture. It felt…nice. Safe. Not sexual, though my heartrate picked up anyway. I really wish it would quit doing that.

I pulled back. With my boots on, he only had about half a foot height on me. Even with three-inch heels, I was dwarfed by the guy. There was something comforting about that.

He must have been thinking about how I fit against him, too. “You got taller,” he remarked.

My cheeks tugged upward, out of order—first one side, then the other, into a stupid lopsided smile. “Last time I was barefoot, genius.”

“Yeah, but so was I.”

Fair point. I picked a foot up, angling my calf to give him a good look. “These’ll do that.”

His eyebrows shot up as he examined the boot. “How do you _walk_ in those?” He shook his head in wonder.

I bared my teeth in what was part grin, part grimace of triumph. “Lots of practice.”

He checked me out again, nodding approvingly. “With the extra height and that dress, you look like Lt. Uhura.”

Ah, the red. I could see it, especially with my hair pulled up smoothly. “Hailing frequencies open, sir!” I winked. Then it occurred to me to wonder _which_ Lt. Uhura. “The new one, or the original?” Either one would be a compliment, but I was curious.

“J.J. Abrams.”

I nodded. That was about what I expected. “I really don’t get why they made her into Spock,” I reflected. “I mean, fuck, Data from Next Gen showed more real human emotion than he did!”

“To be fair, Spock’s not human. He’s Vulcan.”

I rolled my eyes. “And that gives him the right to act all detached and superior? He reminds me of my dad. Hard pass.”

Talking about Star Trek had clearly relaxed him. The way he grinned at me was totally open, honest, and adorable. “Hey, nice to know you do have some standards.”

I lifted my eyebrows. “I can’t figure out if that’s a self-burn, or a burn on me.”

His laugh was a little embarrassed. “Um. Me. So, um. Wanna get a table?”

I blinked. “I assumed you’d already given them your name. Aren’t we waiting?”

“Only for you! Haven’t you ever been here before?”

I felt my brow furrow in thought as I followed him up to the hostess’ stand. “I don’t think so. Places _like_ this, but I don’t think I’ve ever been to an IHOP. I don’t know, it’s been a while.”

The chipper hostess asked how many in our party. “Two,” Gary told her, and she led us to a small table near one of the windows. “Is this alright?” he asked me as she promised our server would be right with us and skipped away back to her station.

“Of course,” I said, thinking back to some of the awkward group hangs I’d gone to at similar places in college. The few I could remember had been in the middle of the night, and I’d been either stoned or drunk. “If left to my own devices, I’d never bother to eat a square meal. I’m just here for the company. So if this is some place you like, I’m happy.” I flipped open the menu.

He did too, but I didn’t get the impression he was really looking at it. “So.” He cleared his throat. “You had the whole day off today, right? How’s that been?”

I groaned. “I’ve been bored out of my mind! It’s been so long since I actually _had_ a day off, I don’t know what to do with myself anymore!” I gave him the summary anyhow, even though I was almost afraid that describing it would put him to sleep. My description of doing yoga while watching _Dune_ seemed to go over well, though. “Jeez, _Dune_ too? What _other_ nerd stuff are you into?”

While I formulated my answer, I resumed flipping idly back and forth through the menu. Okay, where was it? Was I losing my mind? “There’s no salads on this menu,” I finally said, giving up and stating the fact.

“You want a _salad_ at _IHOP_?” Gary looked almost personally offended by my bad judgement. “That’s…that’s just terrible! No one orders a salad at IHOP!”

“Because they’re not on menu.” Kind of hard to order something that wasn’t an option.

“Because that would defeat the whole point of IHOP!” He was _so_ scandalized.

I laughed and glanced down at the menu again. “Okay, you win. I’ll get something fattening.” I was going to have to indulge myself, clearly. Okay, strawberries and cream crepes. I’d probably burned enough calories this morning, and I knew I’d enjoy strawberries. My stomach, deprived of solid food for longer than I’d willingly admit, grumbled at the thought.

“Thanks.” He smiled at me again, and my stomach stopped growling and did a dip. “I’d feel bad about ordering a stack of pancakes if you weren’t eating. And I’m _starving_.”

“Oh yeah, what were you up all night _doing_ , anyway?”

“Uh…breaking into VenTech?”

Good grief, did he think I was going to be _mad_? “You didn’t fuck with my stuff in the lab, did you?”

“No, but that’s a good point.” He rubbed his hand on his chin. Which, now I focused on it, was smooth aside from a small cut on one side. His hair was combed straight back, though one little strand had fallen over his forehead. He might not have taken me somewhere fancy, but he _had_ tried to look nice. “We probably will, eventually. How do I know what’s yours, so I can avoid it?”

“Well jeez, now it’ll be the stuff that’s put away under lock and key! Thanks for the heads-up.”

Gary inclined his head. The movement stirred that one little stray lock of hair. I leaned across the table to brush it back off of his forehead. The second I removed my fingers, it fell back out of place. Cute. My heart skipped a beat, and when I dropped my hand I left it near his elbow. He took that as the invitation it was, and adjusted his hand to rest on top of mine.

“Don’t bother,” he told me, giving his head a tiny shake. “Ever since I cut my hair, that part won’t stay put.”

“It used to be longer?” I tried to picture it.

“Yeah, I had a ponytail for _years_.”

I cocked my head to the side, studying his face and imagining it some other way. “Well, I can’t testify to how it looked before, but I definitely think this suits you. Even that little piece that won’t stay.”

We smiled at each other.

“So, um, go on?” I said when I realized I was just staring at him and holding his hand. “You broke into VenTech?” Let’s get the conversation back on track here.

“Oh yeah, right. Nothing major, The Monarch just got in the mood to go mess some shit up. You know, take a dump in his pool, spray paint a giant mural telling the city Venture has a tiny dick, that sort of thing.”

I snorted, bringing my free hand up to cover my smirk. “That’s juvenile.”

“Yeah,” he agreed, “but you laughed! And it makes him happy.”

I shook my head, still smirking. “That took you all night?”

“Nnnno. One of the new recruits decided to take _initiative._ He broke in, wanted to go sharpie up Venture’s face. I mean, props for effort, right? The Monarch would have _loved_ the idea, he’d just be mad he didn’t think of it first.”

“But?” I asked. There was clearly a but.

“Hi I’m Katie I’ll be your server today welcome to IHOP can I get you anything to drink?”

We both turned to look at our waitress. “Just a water,” I told her. Gary asked for Diet Pepsi. Katie nodded and asked if we were ready to order. I looked across the table. “I am, but you’ve hardly looked at the menu.”

“I already know what I want.” He addressed the waitress again. “Chocolate-chocolate chip pancakes. Extra whipped cream.”

Holy shit, talk about indulgent. I ordered my strawberry crepes, and Katie thankfully went to place the order and left us alone.

“So what went wrong?” I asked, returning to the subject at hand again. “With the Great Sharpie Plot?”

“Oh, he set the security system off. Woke up Samson.”

Rusty’s bodyguard. I winced sympathetically. “ _You_ didn’t get hurt, did you?”

“No, but Twelve wound up in the hospital.” He shook his head, looking downcast. “He’s lucky to be alive at all. If Brock had _caught_ him, he wouldn’t be.”

“He didn’t catch him? Then what happened?”

“He jumped off the balcony to get away.”

“Ouch.” I winced again.

“Yeah,” Gary agreed. “Anyway, I couldn’t just leave him there. I took him to the hospital and waited for his brother to turn up. It’s too bad.” He sighed, and I squeezed his hand.

“He knew the risks when he signed up. And then when he tried to go against orders and break in.”

“I know. But he’s a good kid. I’d been teaching him how to throw a better punch. He had potential, you know? And no way he’s ever gonna walk again, so now we’ll have to replace him.”

One of his subordinates had gone rogue, compromised the mission, and nearly gotten himself killed. And instead of being furious with him, Gary had stayed with him at the hospital into the wee hours until next of kin had turned up. Hero. I shook my head. “You’re too nice for this business.”

“Um, did you miss the part where we went to someone’s house just to crap in their pool?”

I snorted again—still funny. “I hope The Monarch knows what he’s got in you.”

He shrugged a little bit. A server who wasn’t Katie deposited a soda and a water onto our table. We both took a sip, and the conversation lagged. It didn’t feel bad, though. I was kind of enjoying watching him put the straw into his glass and drink.

Impulsively, I pulled the end off my straw’s paper covering and pulled the remainder down to the end. Then I blew it at him.

“Hey!” He flinched as it bounced off his collarbone, but when he realized what it was he started laughing. “I can’t believe you just did that!”

“Why not?” I demanded.

“Because it’s…’cause it’s goofy and cute!”

I jutted out my lower lip. “I’m not goofy and cute?”

“Ah.” He suddenly seemed really interested in a scuff on the table. “Not really. You’re…cool. And smart. And gorgeous…funny…seductive. A little intimidating.” He lifted one shoulder and flicked his glance up from the table very quickly.

I stuck my foot out under the table and nudged his calf, letting him know it was alright. “That’s fair,” I said, and he looked at me for real. “I’m out of practice at being cute. It’s not really a useful skill.”

He smiled at me, profoundly relieved. “Good! I didn’t want to piss you off.”

I raised my eyebrows, amused. “Am I really _that_ scary?”

“No! Well okay, maybe a little. But I meant because you’re a girl who actually seems to like me, so I keep expecting to totally blow it.”

I rolled my eyes. “You’re not gonna blow it. If anything, _I’m_ gonna blow it.”

“You? Why would _you_ blow it?”

“Do I look like I go on a lot of dates?”

“Honestly? Yes.”

“Well, I don’t.” _Date_ implied _relationship_ , which somewhere along the way had become anathema to me.

“So we’re _both_ gonna blow it?” He scratched at the cut on his jaw.

“Probably.” I bobbed my shoulders in an apologetic half-shrug.

Gary smiled weakly. “Okay. That’s…kind of a relief.”

I nudged his leg again and grinned. “Low expectations. Let’s get through lunch without fucking up, yeah?”

“Works for me.” He took another sip from his straw, and I copied him. “So…boy, this is weird. Any luck on the…oh hey! You were going to tell me about all your fandoms.”

Wow, we really _had_ gotten off topic since he’d asked that! I had to think. “Oh, you know, all the usual stuff. Lots of sci-fi. Fantasy sometimes—I watched _Lord of the Rings_ like everyone else—but not so much. Star Wars, Star Trek, Dr. Who, Farscape, Battlestar Galactica. And that’s just TV. Orson Scott Card, Frank Herbert, Douglas Adams, Lois Bujold McMaster…aliens, Gary. The key is aliens.”

“Ever watch _Alien vs. Predator_?” he asked immediately.

I snorted into my drink. “It was _so bad_ I’ve attempted to obliterate it from my memory, but yes.”

“Okay, how about tabletop? Did you ever get into Traveller?”

I bit my lower lip, chasing a memory. I knew I’d heard of it at some point. “That’s like space D&D, right?”

“Yeah!” His eyes lit up with excitement.

I felt bad having to shake my head. “No, I never did any tabletop. That would have required friends.”

“Oh come on! You must have had _friends_ ,” he objected.

“Alright, fine. I did when I was little, but D&D wasn’t even on our radar.” I didn’t feel like disclosing any more than that right now. “What about you? You telling me you had family game night with the Fluttering Horde?”

He waggled his hand from side to side. “I got a few of them into it for a while. Half of being a henchman is kicking your heels waiting for the boss to do some arching. Finding a way to burn time went over pretty well. Either that or they were just being nice to me because I was a kid.”

I smiled fondly at him as my heart skipped another beat. At this rate I was going to wind up in the hospital, which would _definitely_ count as blowing it. “Maybe a little of both.”

Discussion of tabletop and science fiction took us easily through until our food arrived. I was still ranting about midichlorians when Katie presented our crepes and pancakes and asked if we needed any refills. My food smelled pretty damn good, so I stopped talking to slice off a bite with my fork and taste it. It had been way too long since I’d eaten something like this. The sweetness flowed over my tongue until I was practically drooling, and I closed my eyes to savor it. I chewed slowly, eyes still closed, borderline orgasmic. Strawberries and cream, holy fucking shit.

“Okay,” said Gary when I opened my eyes to see him staring at me. “There is no way a crepe can be _that_ good.”

I shoved my plate toward him, offering him a bite. The taste was still lingering on my tongue. Heaven.

“It’s good,” he conceded, still chewing. “But this is better.” He picked up his own fork, carefully slicing out a slivered stack of chocolate pancakes, making sure there was some chocolate syrup and whipped cream in the bite. “Here.”

I was still drooling from my crepes. If there was a chance his was really better, I wasn’t going to turn it down. I leaned over the table, opening my mouth enough to fit my lips around the pancake and pull it off his fork. I closed my eyes again the second it hit my tongue. The fluffy pancake and chocolate syrup were good, but it was that light touch of whipped cream that really did it for me. I swallowed, chewed twice, rolled it around my tongue.

I opened my eyes, still chewing slowly. “I’d forgotten there were foods as good as sex,” I said, hearing the awed tones in my voice.

“See?” He grinned. “Told you it was good. What the hell have you been eating before now, though?” His tone grew suspicious. “Did your dad not let you have chocolate? Because if not, I see why you hate him.”

The pancake was slowly dissolving on my tongue. “He didn’t, as a matter of fact. And I mostly live on nutrition shakes. Cooking takes time and money I don’t have.”

That puzzled Gary. “Isn’t cooking like…chemistry? You’d kick ass at it.”

I swallowed what was left of my bite. “Well damn, after _this_ , I kind of want to try. I didn’t know aerosolized whipped cream and sugar was this amazing.” I stuck my finger into the mound of whipped cream that was still on his pancakes and licked it off.

“You have led a terrible life,” Gary informed me seriously. “Also, do you know you’re, uh…never mind.”

“Hm?” I was sucking the remaining traces of whipped cream off my finger. Then I saw the way he was watching me. “Oh.” I hadn’t actually _meant_ to come across as seductive that time. I was just enjoying the food—a little too much, maybe, but nothing more than that. But the way he was looking at me made me want to do it again, and _not_ just for the food.

Okay, easy solution there. I grabbed his hand, directing it down to his plate, and helped him swipe a large dollop of cream onto _his_ finger. Which I promptly brought up to my mouth and removed for him. I kept my eyes open this time, watching him as I did it. I was enjoying myself immensely, and judging from his body language he was, too. I ran my tongue along his finger once more, reluctant to let go of his hand. “Whipped cream is the bomb,” I said firmly. “I want to just eat a giant bowl of whipped cream.”

He started to say something, stopped himself, then went for it. “I’m pretty sure we have a whole container of it in the fridge at home.”

I grinned and cut myself another bite of crepe. “Is that an invitation?”

“If you’re gonna keep eating like _that_? Um, yeah!”

I laughed, which didn’t go very well with my mouthful of food. First I nearly spat it out, then when I tried to swallow quickly instead I nearly choked. “This is why I don’t eat,” I rasped between coughs, holding up a hand so he knew he didn’t have to jump up and give me the Heimlich maneuver.

Luckily, that was as close as I came to blowing it. We finished our meal (well, he did; I was full halfway through my plate) and he insisted on paying the bill. Not that I fought him that hard for it—it wasn’t that pricey, but I was still happy to not have the additional expense.

We discussed our ambitions during the short walk from the restaurant back to his neighborhood. Like me, Gary seemed to feel that he’d hit the ceiling for opportunities that interested him. I was stunned that he didn’t want to go further, be a real villain instead of someone else’s number two. He wasn’t even thirty yet, he had to have _something_ else to shoot for!

“No way,” he said firmly in response to that. “This is as much responsibility as I can handle! And me and The Monarch, we’re a good team, you know? He’s my best friend, we have fun hanging out. He comes up with the good arching plans—”

“Like shitting in Rusty’s pool?” I cut in.

He cast me a quick grin as we walked. “That was just for fun. We’ve done _way_ more ambitious stuff.”

“Ohhh, like kidnapping his girlfriend?”

Another grin. “Hey, shut up.”

I couldn’t quite contain my own smile. “Sorry.”

“Nah, it’s fine.” He noticed that I was practically jogging in heels to match his long stride and slowed down. I grabbed onto his hand to even out our pace, and his answering grip made me feel like I’d stepped into a warm patch of sunlight. “One time we went all the way to the Amazon. But, uh…what was my point here?”

“He has good ideas, apparently?”

“He does! He’s got a grudge, and he’s just…he’s dedicated. He’s great at it. But the day to day organizational stuff, not so much. Making sure the lair is stocked up, groceries are bought, henchmen are recruited and trained, we’re stocked up on weapons, costumes get dry-cleaned, that stuff’s on me.”

“Sounds like a lot of responsibility to me,” I agreed. “And not a lot of glory.”

He shrugged. “You don’t get _hench for life_ tattooed across your stomach if you’re in it for glory.”

“Fair enough. As long as you know you _could_ do better.”

“Well, what about you?” he turned it around. “You said working at VenTech is your only real option because you didn’t finish college. You could always go back! Get a real degree. It doesn’t sound like it’d be exactly _hard_ for you. And then you’d have your pick of chemistry jobs in the city.”

“Nah.” I shook my head, even though I felt like I was glowing from the compliment. “They wouldn’t like my inventions at a real lab.”

“You really like blowing stuff up, huh.”

“Guilty,” I grinned.

“The military would hire you in a heartbeat.”

“Ugh. Too many rules.”

“You don’t know unless you try.”

“You just don’t like my working for VenTech,” I teased him. “Possessive much?”

“ _You_ just don’t want to finish college cause your dad might actually approve,” he fired back.

“Oof,” I grimaced. “You’re not pulling punches!”

He squeezed my hand lightly. “Sorry.”

“Eh.” I attempted to shrug it off. “It’s my own fault for opening up to you.” Which, strangely, I didn’t regret at all. I flashed him a quick grin. “You caught me in a moment of weakness.”

“Oh yeah?” Ugh, he had _such_ a cute smile! “Well now I know _all_ your weaknesses!”

“You do not!”

He only seemed mildly disappointed. “Give me time.”

It would have been fun to cross my arms and glare defiantly at him, but I didn’t want to drop his hand. Besides, we were coming up on a corner and I didn’t know which way to turn on my own. “You’re going to have to torture me,” I said instead, tossing my head.

He looked at me sideways, a little too astutely. “Okay. I’ll tie you up and make you late for work. You’ll spill all your secrets in no time.”

“Damn it!” He really _did_ know some of my weaknesses! “That’s not fair!”

Gary laughed and led me across the crosswalk to the left. “Right up there,” he said, pointing, and dropped his voice half an octave. “Prepare to meet your doom.”

“Oh, is that what you call your penis?” I asked, totally straight face. I waved at his crotch with my free hand. “Hi, Doom.”

“What?” he squawked, actually blushing. “No! I was just…oh, you’re joking.”

I meant to just smile reassuringly, maybe wink at him, but he smiled back and my whole face lit up as my stomach swooped. Butterflies in your stomach, that’s what normal people called the feeling, right? It seemed especially apt in this case.

And it made me doubt whether we _were_ actually joking about walking into my doom. I really liked this guy, and I didn’t have a good track record with relationships. Eating whipped cream off his naked body might just seal my fate here if I wasn’t careful. Yet I was still walking with him down the sidewalk to his house.


	5. Chapter 5

It was a hell of a house from the outside—more of a mansion, really. Or a palace. Last time I was here I’d had too much on my mind to appreciate it. It looked almost Victorian with its wrap-around porch, arches, and tower. There was a black metal gate and a fence with brick pillars. “Good grief,” I said as we approached. “It’s _huge_.”

“Forty rooms,” Gary said with definite traces of pride. “Not counting the cave in the basement.”

“Holy shit,” I said, because what else are you going to say? “And here I am with the world’s tiniest, crappiest studio apartment.”

“Yeah, but that’s by choice.” He opened the gate for me.

“Even Dad’s place wasn’t like _this_.”

“Because you lived in the city and didn’t have to house a dozen henchmen.”

“That’s all you’ve got?” I was surprised. “A dozen?”

“We’re building back up. For a while there it was just me.”

I wondered if the dozen included himself. Or the unfortunate Twelve. It seemed better not to ask. “Are you actively recruiting, then?” I followed him up the walk.

“Why, thinking about signing up?”

“Um, no. Now that I have a lab, I have no interest in giving it up to get killed by Brock. For a guy who abducted me. Hard pass.”

He laughed, like I’d hoped he would. “We’re still recruiting, yeah. But I did that the dumb way once and wound up with a lot of…” He trailed off and made a face, trying to figure out the right way to describe a bad henchman. “Guys who couldn’t take orders,” he finished.

I nodded in sympathy. “Which is exactly why you don’t want me.”

He opened the front door. A man in a yellow and black butterfly costume stuck his head out of a nearby doorway. The mask obscured his eyes, but the lower half of his face smiled. “There you are! I—” He must have noticed me, because he dropped whatever he was saying. “Never mind!” His head disappeared, but I could still hear the guy fairly clearly as he said “Damn, 21’s got a _girl_ out there. And she’s _hot_.”

“We’re allowed to have girls over?” responded another voice, equally bad at whispering.

“I dunno, it’s 21. He can do what he wants, right?”

Gary had gone very red. “Come on,” he told me urgently, putting a hand on my arm to lead me down the hallway.

“No, it’s okay.” I dug in my heels, kind of enjoying this glimpse into his life. “Go see what they need. Or show me off. Whatevs.” I added a wink to my smirk.

He groaned and walked over to the room where his henchmen had come from. “Hey guys. I can totally hear you, you know. And so can she.”

I peeked around behind him and lifted my hand in a small wave. There were four men, all in the same unflattering uniform, sitting around a cheap folding table and holding cards. One of them waved back. One focused on his cards. The other two stared. I stepped further out from behind Gary, resting a hand on his upper arm as I did. _Now_ I was glad I’d overdressed. These henchmen got to see what kind of women their boss could get. In fact…

I squeezed his arm gently. “Why don’t you point me in the direction of the kitchen. I’ll go grab the whipped cream while you sort out whatever they need.”

It was a pity I couldn’t see their eyes. Gary went even redder than before, to the point where I almost regretted speaking. One of the henchmen, the one who had waved, answered for him. “It’s just down the hall. If you’d turned the other way when you came in, you would have wound up in the kitchen.”

“Thanks,” I told him, and headed briskly in that direction.

“Um. Isn’t that the girl you had me spying on a couple weeks ago?” I heard as I retreated.

Gary sighed. “What did you need, Five?”

It became harder to hear them as I walked into the kitchen, but I tried anyway.

“Twelve was supposed to wash the car today, so we were wondering—”

“How long you could get away with doing nothing?” The sharp edge to his tone carried easily into the kitchen. I winced and decided to stop eavesdropping. There was no one else in the large, old-fashioned kitchen. I poked around in the fridge, searching for whipped cream, and eventually located a bottle in the door. I squirted a little bit out onto my finger, tasted it, and shivered. Still delicious.

I returned to the front hall to find Gary already walking my way. I raised my eyebrows in surprise. “That was quick.”

“Oh good, you found it,” he responded, escorting me back down the hall and right past the henchmen. We came to the flight of stairs I vaguely remembered from last time, and we ascended it together. His room was the first on the right. As soon as we were inside, he shut the door firmly behind us.

“Did you have to do that?” he asked plaintively.

“What, talk to your henchmen? They’d already seen me.”

“Bring up the whipped cream in front of them.”

I was confused and mildly wounded by this behavior. “I didn’t realize it was a big secret.” I folded my arms over my chest and leaned against the wall by his door. Yep, definitely wounded. I’d thought he’d _want_ everyone knowing what we were getting up to. Bringing a girl back to your bedroom isn’t exactly subtle. And he’d already practically fucked me in front of The Monarch! But alluding to it in front of his subordinates, that was too much? “You ashamed of me?”

As soon as I asked it, I hated myself. It sounded clingy and stupid and insecure and awful. “Ugh.” What I really wanted to do was cover my face with my hands, but I settled for making a face. “Pretend I didn’t say that.” Time to change the subject as quickly as possible. I tugged at the big zipper between my breasts, pulling it down all the way to the bottom and shrugging out of the dress. In my underwear, I stepped up against him, putting my arms around his neck and tipping my face up hopefully. “We’re here now.”

“Whoa, um, that was, you don’t, I mean, uh, okay.” Damn he was cute when I caught him off-guard like that! His hands settled on my waist, and I squirmed happily up against him. Yes! This was exactly what I wanted! Now kiss me already! I was still wearing my boots, so I couldn’t make myself any taller, but I could press my fingers lightly against the back of his skull and coax him down to my level. He didn’t raise any more inarticulate objections.

He still tasted like chocolate syrup. I ran my tongue around his, letting my hands drop from his head to his muscular shoulders. _His_ hands came up quickly from my waist to my breasts. I directed them to the clasp in front without missing a beat, and kept kissing him as he fumbled with it. When he got it open and pushed the cups out of the way, I moaned in satisfaction.

For some reason he pulled his mouth away from mine, but I went with it and just settled my lips against his neck instead. I started off softly, just my lips and an occasional flicker of tongue, but his breathing quickened and I took it a step further, sucking the blood up through his skin. I also moved my hand down to the front of his pants. In response, he moved one hand from my breasts down to my ass and started kissing me again. The way his fingers gripped my bare skin made the muscles in my legs tremble.

I thought about asking to move this show to the bed, but every time I started to pull my mouth far enough from him to speak, I wound up kissing him more instead. I tried taking a step in that direction, hoping he’d move with me, but instead _he_ broke the kiss. Damn it. “You okay?”

Was I okay? I nearly laughed. “Very,” I told him, stroking the bump in the front of his pants. “Was just thinking we should lie down.”

“Okay,” he agreed quickly.

It wasn’t a huge room. You’d think they’d give their number two guy something fancier. I was on my back on his mattress in a matter of seconds. Gary followed but then stopped at the edge of the bed, staring down at me. I lifted my eyebrows inquisitively. “Yes?”

“Just _looking_ at you,” he admitted. “You’re beautiful.”

I’d heard that before. It didn’t usually make me flush with happiness and pride. “I try. Boots on, or off?”

“Why would you keep them on?”

I shrugged and pulled one foot up so I could unbuckle the boot. “Some guys are into that.” I pulled it off and dropped it onto the floor as quickly as I could, repeating the process with the other one. “Are _you_ taking anything off?”

“You want me to?”

How the fuck could he doubt that? “ _Yes,_ ” I said emphatically, sitting up so I could set to work on his belt. He pulled his shirt off as I got his pants undone. In just his underpants, the bulge pushing out was much more obvious. I liked the view of his bare chest, too. Yes, there was a little extra weight, but there was also a lot of muscle. _My_ breathing quickened. “Lie down,” I requested. It was supposed to come out as a purr. It sounded more like a squeak.

It was just a twin bed. He took up most of it, so I shuffled myself out of the way and straddled him instead. He was broad all the way down, and my knees barely reached the mattress on either side of him. Good thing I did yoga. Our underwear was still on, but it wasn’t much of a barrier. I took a minute to run my hands over his chest and stomach, then remembered the way he’d reacted before when I nibbled his ear. Leaning forward to let my breasts brush lightly against him, I decided to try it again.

He made a faint, strangled sort of squeak and pushed up against me. I pushed back and moved my mouth to his again. He ran his hands up and down my body, slowly, like he was committing every bit of it to memory. I sat up, partly to give him a good view and partly because I knew he’d focus on my breasts if I did—and I just fucking loved the feeling of his hands against my nipples. I arched my spine and twitched my hips back and forth repetitively, rubbing against him. It reminded me vaguely of sex back in college, dry humping and making out in those tiny beds. But this was better, better in a way I couldn’t describe.

I leaned forward to kiss him again, and his hands skated over my sides and back to settle firmly on my ass. I ground against him and his hands tightened, pulling me in so close the underwear hardly mattered. The way he kissed me was deep, urgent, intense. I could feel his desire alright, coming off him in waves, but there was that sweet edge to it. I felt _wanted_. My breath caught in my throat each time he adjusted the position of his hands.

Fuck this, I couldn’t take it anymore. I seriously wished I had those test results back, because I wanted him straight and undiluted, but I didn’t think he was going to hold out on me this time, either. “We’re doing this, right?” I murmured, kissing his face and neck eagerly. “Please say we’re doing this.”

He nodded. The shakiness I could hear in _his_ breath sent a red-hot pulse of desire through me. I knew one of us had to get up to grab a condom, but it was so hard to stop what we were doing long enough to _do_ it. Finally, I tore myself away. “Okay, where are they?”

“Top drawer of my dresser. I can—”

“I got it,” I cut him off, rolling off the bed and to my feet quickly. I pulled the drawer open, eyes scanning over a bunch of worn white underpants and socks before finding what we needed. I grabbed one, shoved the door shut again, and tore open the packet as I returned to the bed. He’d removed his underwear while my back was turned, and I got my first look at him totally naked in the light of day. It didn’t disappoint.

I passed him the condom before stepping out of my tiny black thong, but that only took half a second, and he was still pulling it out of the packaging by the time I was done. I went around to the foot of the bed and crawled up between his legs, kissing his thigh as he unrolled it. When he was finished, I kept crawling upward until I was straddling him again. His hands gripped my shoulders, pulling me down into another kiss. I could feel him actually trembling. Then again, I was, too. I was _so_ ready for this.

But I also remembered that this whole thing was pretty new to him, so I held off and let him just kiss me. It was hard, with his dick pushing up against me and absolutely nothing to stop us, and I wasn’t _good_ at waiting. But I held off, thinking about _my_ first time, a long-ass time ago. “You’re sure this is alright?” I asked softly, parroting the words I’d been asked back then.

Gary nodded—slowly, then rapidly. The look on his face right then was one of the sexiest things I’d ever seen. I reached down, putting my hand between my legs to direct him. The moment he was in the right place we both knew it, and I withdrew my hand quickly as he pushed in. I groaned in satisfaction, and he made a choking sound that shouldn’t have been attractive in a grown man yet absolutely was. He pushed again, deeper, and I gasped and clutched his shoulders.

Yes. _Yes_. Yes! He found his rhythm, and I pushed myself up into a sitting position. His hands anchored my hips, and I arched backward, bracing my hands on his thighs. I shut my eyes, reveling in the sensations. I loved sex. Holy hell did I ever love sex. The warm body under me, the strong hands, the adrenaline, the friction, the sounds, the wave of pleasure spreading out inside me, the way he moved against me and the spot he kept hitting deep inside.

He was certainly enthusiastic now, too. He was going fast and hard enough that I had to lean forward, taking control and slowing him down. Not that I didn’t love getting pounded, but I also wanted to make this last a little longer. I couldn’t easily kiss him anymore, he was too much taller than me. But I could put my hands in his hair, and my lips on his chest. I moaned again. _Damn_ , this was good!

The tempo picked up again. This time I was down with it. An intense orgasm was creeping up on me like the sea at high tide—not quite sweeping me away, not yet, but closer each time the wave flowed up around me. Then it’d subside again, just a little, and come back stronger and deeper, until a wave came that swept me out to sea.

One crested over my head, swallowing me up. I felt my muscles freeze and tighten in the grip of something bigger than me, outside my control, totally fantastic. Gary was still going, and I focused enough to keep myself tight around him as his fingertips dug into my skin. I might be a selfish bitch in a lot of ways, but I was a damn good fuck and not about to quit until I’d blown his mind.

Ah, there it was. He held me against him _hard_ as he finished, sending a fresh thrill through me. Then his grip loosened and I felt him relax and go still. I opened my eyes. His were open, too. Not just open, but focused on me. I smiled.

“Wow,” he said simply.

I smiled wider. “Yeah?”

He nodded vigorously. “ _Yeah_. Uh. You…you did, right?”

“Oh yeah.” I relaxed, resting my head on his chest, where I felt his sigh of relief.

“Good.” He stopped talking, but his hands switched from holding my hips to resting on my back. Almost like a hug. “Sorry I didn’t last very long.”

I lifted my head and looked at him again. “I thought you did very well.” I’d had plenty of guys last half that time. Hell, Rusty had practically blown his load on my thigh. But I wasn’t stupid enough to mention him just now. “I enjoyed the hell out of it.”

 _Now_ he returned my smile. “Me too.”

“I would hope so!” I gave him a quick kiss in the middle of his chest and rolled off, looking for a tissue or something. In the process, I spotted the bottle of whipped cream I’d set down when I came through the door. “Holy shit, we forgot all about this!” I picked it up and headed back to the bed. Gary must have had a box of tissue stashed practically in his bed, because in the time it had taken me to look around and find the whipped cream he’d somehow acquired a Kleenex and pulled off the condom. Damn, I’d kind of wanted to watch that…but the whipped cream was a pretty good consolation prize.

I pressed down the nozzle and squirted a little bit onto my finger while he wrapped it up in tissue and leaned over the edge of the bed to stick it in a small trash can. Then I sat down and tasted the cream on my fingertip. It was already starting to melt and slide down my finger, so I just stuck the whole thing in my mouth. Then I shuddered happily and stretched out backward until my head was resting on his abdomen. “Incredible.” Staring at the unimpressive ceiling, I lifted my arm and held out the can toward him. “Want some?”

“You know what? Yeah.” I felt him take it out of my hand and turned my head to watch. He held it directly above his mouth and squirted a whole mound of the stuff right in. Nice. I pushed myself back up and scooted forward, kissing him before he could swallow all of it. It was a good long kiss. His hand moved back to my upper arm, caressing my skin.

And then, suddenly, he pushed me gently over onto my back and grinned. “Hold still.” I raised my eyebrows but obeyed the instruction as he aimed the can over my stomach. He did two dots of whipped cream, a few inches beneath each breast, and then drew a long, curved line of it from one hip to the other. I sat up on my elbows for a better look. Yep, giant happy face. The guy drew a smiley face on my naked body, and he was grinning at me like it was the coolest thing ever.

I laughed. “Seriously? A smiley face?”

He passed the can back to me, still smiling. “You’re not saying it should have been a sad face, are you?”

“No,” I conceded, grinning back at him. “Definitely not.” He just sat there staring at me and looking pleased with himself, so I lifted my eyebrows again. “Um, you _are_ going to eat it, right? Before it melts?”

“Oh!” Apparently he hadn’t realized that was part of the deal. He’d just wanted to draw on me. Augh, that was so fucking cute! That was just…

He lowered his face to my stomach, and I felt his lips and the flicker of his tongue against my skin as he cleaned off the whipped cream for me. Cute. Right. Cute. By the time he finished with the smile, my hands were gripping his pillow above my head and I was ready to go again. I let out a deep, unsteady breath as he sat back up and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

“You know what? I like smiley faces.” I took another breath, and then pressed my fingers against the center of his chest. He lay down and I sat up, folding my legs under me and leaning against him as I thought. Okay, something simple. I pressed on the nozzle, drawing a long straight line of cream all the way down the center of his chest. Then I added curves going outward on each side, making wings. Finally, I added a couple smaller lines for antenna at the top. It wasn’t a work of art, that was for sure, but you could at least tell it was a butterfly.

Gary tried to swallow a laugh and snorted. “That’s pretty good.”

“No it’s not,” I told him, pleased despite myself. “But it’ll _taste_ good.” I leaned over, starting with the edge of a wing on his lower ribs, and enjoyed myself. It _did_ taste good. I moved slowly, savoring it on my tongue. It went really well with the subtle saltiness of his skin.

“Jane?” He said in a tight voice as I was running my tongue up what I’d generously call the butterfly’s thorax.

I lifted my face long enough to answer. “Yeah?”

He cleared his throat. “I’ve um, I’ve got a question.”

“Shoot,” I told him, swiping a bit of cream off his chest with my finger. Inside, though, alarm bells were going off. Why would he stop me to ask a question right now? Something was wrong. “Is it important?”

“Kinda,” he admitted. “Well, not really. It’s stupid.”

Ugh, definitely something important. I moved my focus from the whipped cream to his face, trying not to look like a deer in the headlights. “Okay?”

“I know now’s not the time,” he said, winding me up even more. “But it just came into my head, and, well… Do you think Smurfs are mammals, or reptiles?”

“The Smurfs,” I repeated blankly. I knew what they were, I’d watched every episode as a kid, but the question was so completely not at all what I was expecting that I stared at him like an idiot.

“Yeah,” he agreed, looking a little disappointed with my reaction. “You know, those little blue guys with white hats, from the cart—”

“I know who they are,” I cut him off, regaining my thinking abilities. “I just…seriously? _Now_? The _Smurfs_?”

He shrugged, embarrassed. “I said it was stupid.”

My mind was still catching up to the original question. “Well, they’re not mammals.”

“What?” he responded, sounding outraged. “Of course they are! Oh, we are so breaking up!”

Now I laughed—partly because that implied he thought we were actually _dating_ , which was adorable, and partly because of how seriously wrong he was about the Smurfs.

“How do you figure?” I demanded, still leaning against him comfortably.

“Just look at Papa Smurf’s beard! Fur and body hair are mammal traits!”

I considered that, but dismissed it with a shake of my head. “They _can’t_ be mammals, though! Smurfette was made as a trap by Gargamel, which means the species itself produces only one gender. That implies some sort of parthenogenesis, which is seen only in reptiles, bugs, and plants!”

“So you’re saying the Smurfs are _plants_?”

“No, I’m saying they have to be some previously unknown variety of reptile that reproduces entirely asexually.” I was kind of having fun with this. It was an interesting mental exercise.

“What about the little girl, then?”

“Sassette? Same deal, created with Gargamel’s recipe.”

He went silent for a second, but I didn’t think for a second he was giving up. Sure enough, I’d barely wiped another fingerful of whipped cream up before he spoke again. “Which was a _spell_ , right? Because he was a wizard!”

“What’s your point?” I stuck my finger in my mouth.

“You’re implying science that isn’t there.”

“I’m a scientist,” I pointed out calmly.

“Okay, but don’t impose that on a fantasy world. What’s to say there _weren’t_ real females, and they just…I dunno, left?”

Left? I laughed silently, shaking my head. “If you’re using the Entwives as your framework, you’re really not doing your whole they’re-not-plants case any favors, babe.”

He stared at me, eyebrows up. I flinched, realizing my mistake, but refused to back down and met his stare.

“You just called me babe,” he said when the silence stretched too long.

“Yeah,” I agreed, looking back down at the whipped cream. That had been idiotic of me. I should have known he’d notice and find it significant. “Sorry.”

“No, it’s okay,” he assured me, smiling to prove it. “I think I like it. Um. Maybe they _are_ plants, then. Magic plant people.”

A peace offering. I smiled shyly. “I mean, some plants do kind of have hair.”

“Exactly,” he agreed, nodding quickly.

“And maybe they’re blue because of some atypical chlorophyll reaction?”

Gary shrugged, but he seemed pleased. “You’re the scientist.”

I grinned. “So you want to tell me why, in the middle of me eating whipped cream off of you, you were thinking about _Smurfs_?”

“Not really?”

“No, seriously.” I laughed and nudged him. “I need to know!”

He sighed. “I was just thinking how cool it was that a girl like you wanted to talk about geeky stuff.”

“Hey. I was a lonely, awkward teenager once too, you know.” Actually, if he’d been kidnapped at fifteen, he’d probably had a lot more socialization during his teen years than I had.

Gary shook his head. “Still, it’s like…that stuff we were talking about at lunch? That’s the kinda stuff I’d talk about with The Monarch…no, not even him. He pretends he doesn’t get ‘nerd culture.’ More like 24. We used to have these great discussions about the weirdest crap.”

“Like whether Smurfs are mammals?” I guessed, putting it together.

“For a start.” He grinned awkwardly. He must have realized that it was a little weird for him to be comparing me to his dead best friend while I had my tongue all over him. Lucky for him, I’d had someone similar once upon a time.

“It’s fun, isn’t it,” I said. “I used to have debates like that.” A memory came into my mind, as clear and detailed as if it had been fifteen minutes ago instead of fifteen years. “This one time we had a two-hour debate about which of the X-Men had the best power.”

“Best?” he asked skeptically. “Isn’t that kind of subjective?”

“No,” I said confidently. “It’s Mystique.”

He shook his head thoughtfully. “I don’t know. Mystique’s pretty good, I’ll grant you that. But the _best_?”

I crossed my arms under my breasts. “Who’s better then? Go on, I’ll wait.”

“Jean Grey,” he said without missing a beat. “You don’t need shapeshifting if you can control minds.”

“She didn’t control minds, she _read_ minds,” I shot back. “She could only influence emotions.” Secretly though, I was pleased. Jean Grey was a _much_ better choice than the one I’d been arguing against the last time I had this discussion.

“No, she can create illusions and manipulate thought,” Gary answered stubbornly. “ _And_ stun opponents with psionic force.”

“Yeah but she hardly ever _does_ , because she’s all good and _boring,_ ” I answered petulantly, because I didn’t remember enough to confidently argue against him about it. “Unless we’re talking Dark Phoenix.”

“They’re the same person. And if she _can_ do it, that means her powers are the best whether or not she chooses to use them, right?”

“Maybe the strongest. Not the best.”

“Subjective.”

“Come on, being able to look like any living creature is _way_ cooler than reading minds.”

“I’m telling you, she could do _so much_ other stuff! You did actually read the comics, right?”

“Some of them.” I looked back at the remaining whipped cream on his chest. It was sliding into a melted pool between his pecs. “I mostly watched the animated series.”

He groaned. “You’re missing out!”

“Probably,” I admitted reluctantly. “You’re better at this than Tr—” I cut myself off abruptly, stunned by how close I’d come to dropping a secret I’d carried around for over a decade. “Than. Um. Than my friend used to be.”

Gary put his hand on mine and looked at me carefully. “You okay?”

“I’m great.” I smiled. “This is fun. I think I’ve missed having debates like this.”

His hand stayed on mine. “Me too.”

I leaned down to kiss him again.

And the door to the bedroom burst open.

“Did you not check your phone? I told you to be ready to go at four-thirty to be safe, and that was like an hour ago!” The Monarch strode in, fully costumed, waving a phone in one hand. “We still have to stop to pick up a good bottle of wine because my wife says we have to make a good impression for these assholes, even though I’ve already—holy shit, you have a _girl_ in here?”

Fuck, had he said 4:30? Already? I sighed and stood up, bending over to pick my thong up off the floor and step into it. “I’d better go.” I found my bra a few steps further away and started pulling it on. “Sounds like duty calls, and I need to head out soon anyway if I’m going to make it back to the city in time to change for my shift.” I flapped a hand at The Monarch as I picked up my dress. “Don’t mind me.”

“I had my door closed,” Gary pointed out, giving The Monarch a dirty look. “You can’t just barge in!”

“You’ve never complained before!”

“I have, but whatever. I was up all night, you could have at least knocked!”

The Monarch sighed loudly as I zipped up my dress. “Okay, fine, I’m sorry. Now will you go get your costume on already?”

“I didn’t even get the message,” Gary said, looking around for _his_ clothes. “Where are we going?”

“Some boring dinner party they’re hosting for high-level arches. Dr. My Wife _says_ she filled me in on it weeks ago, says we’re expected to be there, but she knows she’s supposed to send all that schedule stuff on to you! Hurry up, would you?”

I grabbed my boots from the foot of the bed, but I stopped to give Gary a proper goodbye before taking off. “Sorry I’ve gotta run,” I said, touching his face lightly and utterly ignoring the impatient villain standing behind me. “I had a great time. We should do this again sometime soon, yeah?” Even to me, my voice sounded weirdly soft and tender. That should have set off warning bells. Instead, I kissed him gently. “You still have whipped cream on your chest,” I pointed out when I pulled away. “Sorry about that.”

“I’ll call you,” Gary told me as I brushed past The Monarch on my way out the door.

I turned to smile at him one more time. I didn’t really _want_ to leave, though it was clearly time. “Text me.”

“Wait a minute,” I heard The Monarch say as I headed down the stairs. “Don’t I know her?”


	6. Chapter 6

I might have walked out of that mansion with stars in my eyes, but about halfway through my ride home reality set back in. I sat on the blue bench seat, squashed between a slouching goth teenager and a guy old enough to be my grandfather who kept checking me out. For the first five minutes I was nearly oblivious to them both, happily replaying the afternoon in my head and smiling to myself. I honestly couldn’t think of the last time sex had made me feel like _this_.

And just like that, the butterflies in my chest turned into bubbling anxiety. Sex _shouldn’t_ make me feel like this! I should not still be fixated on the way his eyes looked when he smiled at me. I shouldn’t be thinking about him getting upset over the biology of Smurfs and giggling to myself over how cute it was. I should not get this little ache in my chest when I thought about him looking out for his fallen henchman.

This was too dangerous. I was going to wind up really falling for him, and I couldn’t handle that. Jane in love was a fucking disaster. For me, for him, for everyone. I’d gone out with him, I’d had fun, I’d screwed him, I liked him—and that “liked him” part was exactly why it was a bad idea to see him again. I’d scratched that itch, now I needed to get back to focusing on _me_.

That thought didn’t make me happy, and I got off the PATH train in a bad mood. More evidence that I’d already gone too far…but I’d been enjoying myself, damn it. He was nice. And the lively discussions about Star Wars, X-Men, all the rest…I’d really felt alive. I wished I could go into the lab right now, because working with some chemicals would be a surefire way to take my mind off all the sappy romance crap. Coming up with a bomb that made someone’s entire epidermis peel off would get me back on the right track.

But no, I had to go into Costume Party tonight and bring drinks to rich asshole tourists. At least I’d be busy, and I definitely needed the tips, but it wasn’t exactly mentally taxing.

I made it home in time to get ready, with a few minutes to spare. I tried really hard to keep my mind on science and my appearance, using the extra time to do more yoga rather than sketch out the lightsaber replica plans my brain kept trying to focus on. Finally I caved, justifying it with the excuse that I’d _told_ him I was going to make him one, and I wouldn’t be able to stop thinking about it until I fulfilled the promise. The fact that I’d have to see him again to deliver it was totally beside the point. I spent the walk to work doing mental lists and calculations of what I’d need, in what quantities.

At least I wasn’t thinking about the sound of his voice or the way his fingers felt on my skin. That was something, right?

Luckily, the club was hopping, and I barely had a chance to think about _anything_ once I got there and got in costume. All night, it seemed like I’d barely gotten one drink order before someone was calling me for something else. By the time I got home I was totally beat, so I managed to fall asleep quickly.

Part of me hoped I’d have a dream about Gary, but I didn’t. Dreams never cooperate when you want them to. I had a nightmare instead—I was a teenager again, tied up over a shark tank, trying not to be scared, utterly convinced my boyfriend was going to turn up and rescue me. I was grateful when I woke up before I got to the end of the dream.

Unfortunately, it was still the damn weekend. I couldn’t stand the thought of another morning kicking my heels at home, so I went to the gym again. While I was there, my mind suggested that I spend the rest of the day educating myself with some X-Men comics. I could google the nearest comic shop and find some graphic novels or something at least.

Oh really, I told my mind in response. We’re not going to go out with him again, but we’re going to spend all our free time reading things he recommended and working on gifts for him? It isn’t a coincidence that we had that dream last night. You _want_ it to end up like that again, you dumb bitch?

My brain calmly told me that I was a grown woman who everyone had forgotten was even related to Richard Impossible, and who was fairly capable of taking care of herself. It wasn’t _going_ to end up like that again.

My brain and my fear—or maybe it was my heart and my brain, thought damned if I knew which side was which—stayed at war with each other as I practiced kicking things. I eventually gave up and decided to go into the lab. Pity I didn’t have Pete or Billy’s phone numbers. I could have asked them about going in on the weekends, see if there were any special hoops I had to jump through. Oh well, that’s what I got for being a bitch.

I decided to just go in. Rusty lived upstairs, it wasn’t like the building ever totally closed. The guard at the main level recognized me by now and escorted me back to the lab. It was surprisingly easy to get the whole giant laboratory to myself.

Ah fuck, _not_ to myself. The lights were already on, and I could hear the sounds of someone moving around in the distance. But the place was practically a warehouse, there was no reason our work would overlap or even put us in—

“Hatred? What are you—oh, _Jane_!” Rusty’s voice carried remarkably well. “I didn’t know _you_ were planning on coming in! Couldn’t keep yourself away, eh?”

He was already hurriedly crossing the lab. I sighed. I should have expected this. He lived here, he was a scientist, and his kids were grown and out of the house. Where else would he be on a Sunday afternoon?

“I came to ask you about my paycheck,” I lied, smiling broadly.

My deception skills were really not up to par lately. He laughed. “Oh you did not.”

“Alright,” I admitted, keeping my smile carefully in place, “I didn’t. I came in because I was bored. But since I’ve got you…I _am_ getting a paycheck, right?”

“Of course, of course! It takes time to set these things up. New employee and all that. Though it’s not as though you really _need_ the money, is it.”

I froze. He knew. I shouldn’t have told Gary who I really was. I should have known better than to tell _anyone_. “What do you mean?” I managed.

He’d finished crossing the lab and was close enough to touch me now. Thankfully, he didn’t. He just waggled his eyebrows. “Oh, don’t be coy. Everything you could possibly need is right here. No need to keep paying for some grubby apartment. Room, board, round the clock access to the lab. What do you say?”

“Oh!” I was seriously relieved about how wrong I’d been about what he was hinting at, but it definitely caught me off guard. “I don’t know. What’s the catch?”

“No catch,” he assured me, which meant there probably was. “We treat our employees like family! And if you were living here, you’d have our security. No more risk of abductions.”

Ah, that’s what this was about. “Are you sure?” I asked, crossing my arms. “Because if I moved in here, I think that would send the signal that I _am_ someone you care about, and that’d make me _more_ likely to get abducted. I don’t like being a pawn.”

“You’re not a _pawn_!” He put his hands on my arms. “I’m just trying to keep you safe!”

I actually wished for a second that he _did_ know who I really was. Because he might understand. How many times had _he_ been kidnapped or targeted because of who _his_ dad was? If he’d been able to escape all that and make it on his own, how much would he value _his_ independence? Would he want to avoid security as much as I did? But it was a moot point, because he _hadn’t_ escaped that life, and he didn’t know what it was like to live off the radar.

“Thank you,” I said after what felt like a painfully long pause. “I really appreciate the offer. Which would conveniently mean that you didn’t have to pay me, I bet.” I winked, trying to keep the mood light. “But I like my independence too much. I don’t want to feel like I’m…beholden to anybody.”

Rusty was disappointed. “Not even if I give you your own room?”

That startled a laugh from me. “I was already assuming that was part of the deal!” He looked chagrinned, and I sighed. “What did we agree when you hired me?”

“I know, I know!” he exclaimed irritably. “I just thought you might’ve…changed your mind.”

Ugh. How did I get myself into this mess? “I like you,” I assured him, which wasn’t really a lie. “But don’t go getting any ideas, okay? I’m not girlfriend material.” That wasn’t a lie either, unfortunately. “Like, I’m _really_ not.” I sighed again. I was restating that fact for myself as much as for him. I wanted to be _someone’s_ girlfriend, and I wasn’t qualified, not even close. “I just came here to do some work. Because I was bored. Can I do some work?”

He hesitated, but then his expression cleared. “Sure! I was doing some work myself, if you’d like to see.”

“Yeah?” He wasn’t usually in the lab at the same time I was—I’d been starting to think he didn’t do much actual inventing these days. “Something new?”

“Alice in Wonderland pills,” he explained, leading me by the elbow over to the table he’d been working at.

“No shit, size altering drugs?” I had to admit, I was interested. That would have a lot of fascinating applications. “ _Actually_ altering, not just hallucinogens?”

Rusty snickered. “What use would _that_ be? Other than pointing the test subject at a tiny door and watching them try to fit through.”

I giggled with him. “Not to mention there are plenty of similar items already on the market. But no, seriously? That’s a game changer. What’s your formula?”

“I’m still working out the kinks,” he warned me.

Working out the kinks was an understatement. He’d clearly just started the project, and as yet the formula didn’t do much of anything at all. But we tinkered around with it together, and I had a surprisingly good time. He was a little insecure and a little out of practice, and he let me do most of the actual work—but he had some really creative ideas that would never have occurred to me. He seemed to be having fun, too, and for the first time since we’d met he didn’t seem to be dedicated to getting me undressed.

I left the lab feeling pretty damn good that night. It didn’t take long for thoughts of Gary to work their way back into my head once I was alone, but I held them at bay with the puzzle of how to chemically trigger a size shift in a mammal without causing any negative side effects. It was a good puzzle, and I fell asleep dwelling on it.

The next day was more of the same. I woke up to a message from Gary, which I couldn’t stop myself from responding to, and before I knew it we were in a text discussion about the politics of Battlestar Galactica. I had to put it on hold when I got to work, where I jumped around between my multiple projects before becoming totally engrossed in my tiny sticky bomb. It was similar to the marble design I’d been using a few years back, but I needed it to pack a _lot_ more punch than those had.

I finally came up for air around 4:00 and checked my phone. It had two new messages. The first was from Gary: _Hey what are you doing tonight?_ The second, from Rusty, was more of a surprise: _Feel like burning some midnight oil? I’m coming down to work on our new project soon._

Gee, golly, what a tough choice! Do I go out on a date with the cute guy who makes my heart flutter, or do I spend my night helping my boss work on a project that I know he’ll get all the credit for?

Of course I went with Rusty. Because even though I knew he was full of shit, he’d called it “our” project. And, more importantly, because the way Gary made me feel was as terrifying as it was enticing. Staying in the lab was safe. So I texted a quick apology saying I had work late. Fuck, I’d already told him earlier that I didn’t have a shift at the club tonight, hadn’t I. _Project’s running long at the lab,_ I added hastily. _I’ll explain later. Have a good night!_

 _You too,_ he responded, and followed it with a kiss emoji. Predictably, my heart fluttered. Yep, yep, that was exactly why I was staying here.

Billy and Pete had dinner plans and no desire to put in extra hours unless there was an emergency. I was still engrossed in weighing potassium chlorate. It had to be perfectly precise. So naturally Rusty strolled in exactly as I was pouring it.

“There’s the second hottest person at VenTech!” he greeted me loud enough I jerked in surprise, spilling way more powder than I wanted onto the scale.

That was annoying, but it didn’t stop me coming up with the perfect comeback. “I thought Brock worked for OSI,” I said with a straight face.

Rusty paused, nonplussed. “He does. What does that—” His brain caught up, and he scowled at me. “Oh ha ha.”

“Who’s number one, then?” I asked smoothly, carefully scooping the excess powder back into its tube. “Because Pete’s okay and all, but I really think I should rank higher.”

Rusty put his hands on his hips and continued to scowl. I looked back at my potassium chlorate, smirking. “I was talking about _me_ , missy.”

“Ohhhhh.” I feigned surprise. “I didn’t…oh gee…this is awkward.”

“Fine, you’re number one,” he snapped, approaching the lab table. “Jeez, I was trying to be cute.”

“So was I,” I told him, still smirking. “Now, if you’d said _second most brilliant_ , I wouldn’t have given you nearly as hard a time.”

“Brilliant, really, you think?” He stopped sulking immediately to preen.

I set down my test tube and turned, giving him my full attention. “After last night? Absolutely. You _altered Planck’s Constant_! With chemistry! That shouldn’t be possible, you know that, right? It’s a constant for a reason!”

“Yes, and that reason is because everyone else is idiots.” He continued to look pretty damn pleased with himself. “You start by assuming you know better than them.”

I shook my head, impressed. I didn’t think even Dad could have pulled this one off. “You’re saying no one did this before just because no one believed it was possible.”

“Exactly.” He beamed at me. “I do impossible things all the time.”

For a minute there, I thought he was making a clever pun about our (for want of a better word) relationship. Then I remembered he didn’t know my real name. That made it funnier, somehow. “I wouldn’t say _all_ the time,” I told him with a little smirk. “But credit where credit’s due. It’s pretty awesome.”

“You like brilliant, do you?” He leaned closer too casually to be convincingly casual. And I recognized the look in his eyes.

“Sometimes,” I purred, letting him get as close as he wanted. “Show me what you’ve got.”

“You’ve seen it already,” he reminded me, walking his fingers up my arm.

I snorted, but I didn’t pull away. I’d wanted a distraction from Gary, right? “I meant in the lab.”

“Oh, is _that_ what you’re into?” He cocked an eyebrow mischievously and hopped back so he was sitting on the edge of my lab table. Where he proceeded to undo the top buttons of his speed suit before lying down on his back. “Okay, I’m game.”

I cleared my throat. “I wouldn’t. For a brilliant guy, you seem a little too eager to lie down in spilled chemicals.”

He sat back up quickly, looking anxiously at his back. “You could have warned me!”

“I was doing lab work when you walked in. I thought you might have noticed.”

He brushed off the powder clinging to the fabric. “What is this?”

“Hydrogen fluoride,” I answered innocently. He yelped and got off the table so quickly he almost fell, and I started laughing. “Okay, just kidding.” I paused. “It’s actually azidoazide azide.”

This time he just stared at me. “You have a _sick_ sense of humor.”

I was still giggling. “I know.”

“What is it really?” He narrowed his eyes at me.

“Probably just alum,” I admitted. “But it’s hard to say. All these white powdered chemicals look white and powdery, you know?”

Rusty let out a very put-upon sounding sigh. “Why did I hire you again?”

“Because I’m smart, talented, hot, and work for practically nothing?”

“Right.” He went over to the nearest sink and started washing his hands, just to be safe. “What were you even working on?”

“Just explosives,” I shrugged, and went back to cleaning up the station. “Something the government will be happy to buy off you once I’ve got it right. But nowhere near as exciting as upending Planck’s Constant.”

“Why don’t you go have sex with Planck’s Constant?” he grumbled.

“Because I prefer men,” I answered honestly. “And if I was doing that, I wouldn’t be doing science.” I glanced back over my shoulder at him. “I mean, face it, I could have sex with anyone. The list of people I want to work with is a lot shorter.”

That compliment must have had the ring of truth to it, because he started to cheer up after that. I finished cleaning up my workstation, and we headed over to the area we’d been working yesterday. He started scribbling in a notepad while I got out the necessary components, and before long we were back to experimenting with combinations. This was going to be difficult to test, since it was meant to work upon ingestion. We couldn’t exactly sprinkle our drug on a chair and see if it shrank. And I didn’t want to start feeding it to the lab mice until I was at least 95% positive it wasn’t going to poison them. I felt like we were close, but this was one of those things that would only be useful if it was safe. And I wasn’t confident it was safe yet. That was going to take a lot more tweaking and data-checking.

By the time I thought to stop for a drink, it was four in the morning. I pulled my bottle of dietary supplements out of my purse and offered one to Rusty. “Might as well pull an all-nighter at this point, right?”

He took one without bothering to ask what it was. “If you’re up for it.”

“If I went home now, I’d get three hours of sleep.” I made a face. “I’d rather just work through and crash after…fuck, I have a shift at the club tonight.”

Rusty looked up from the rotary evaporator to cast me a quick glance. “You know you can come and go whenever. You don’t have to stay till five.”

“What will Billy and Pete say about that?” I asked. I’d gotten teased for taking a lunch break; if I cut out early, they’d probably assume a family member had died or something. Ha, as if I were that lucky!

“Who cares?” Rusty responded, totally unconcerned. “You don’t work for them.”

“No, but I have to work _with_ them.” The pill was stuck in my throat. I took another sip of water. “But you’re right, who cares. Where’d we put that scale?”

“Behind you.” He waved his hand vaguely, turning his attention back to the evaporator. “Next to the distilling set-up.”

“Right.” I stuffed my water bottle back into my purse and got back to work.

We had to distill the solution several times over to get the results that we wanted. It was time consuming. Around five I stifled a yawn and propped my chin in my hands, leaning over the table as I stared at the amber liquid working its way through the tiny tubes. Good thing I’d taken my supplements, or I’d probably fall asleep in a puddle of sulfuric acid. Even as it was, I needed to be actively doing something to stay awake. Standing here watching the solution, my mind went back to all the things I didn’t want it to. It started with daydreaming about Gary, but when I firmly shut that down my mind rebelled and went to the really nasty stuff instead. My parents. Trent. The dubious meaning of life.

An elbow bumped up against mine as Rusty settled himself into a similar pose right next to me. “You know, I don’t care if you’re a plant.”

That snapped me out of it pretty quick. “If I’m _what_?”

He shrugged nonchalantly. “A plant. A secret agent. A spy. You know.”

I rolled my eyes. “Why would you think _that_?”

“Jane Jane Jane Jane Jane,” he scolded me with an annoying little smile. “I’m brilliant, remember?”

I straightened up, crossing my arms. “I never said you weren’t.”

“No, but you act like it. When you first asked me for a job, I figured you just wanted to upgrade to something respectable. I was happy to…lend a hand.” He winked. “But you’re too good at this. You know _way_ too much real science to just be a sexy nobody.”

I shrugged defensively, my arms still crossed. The solution continued to drip. “Sorry I’m naturally talented? I hate to break it to you, but it _is_ possible to have a talent for something without Jonas Venture forcing it down your throat from infancy.”

“Hey, no need to get personal!” He actually looked wounded. “I’m telling you I don’t care!”

I moved my hands to my hips. “But I’m _not_ a plant! I work for nobody but myself.”

He stroked his chin thoughtfully. “Maybe. Maybe not.”

This had no right to infuriate me as much as it did. I set my teeth and turned my attention back to the distillation. “Fine. Think what you like.” But I continued to silently fume over it, and a minute later I had to ask the question. “Why wouldn’t you care? That seems like something you should care about.”

“Because the Revenge Society is defunct and Professor Impossible is a washed-up failure who hasn’t done anything since,” he told me placidly. “I’m not scared of him.”

It was a good fucking thing I wasn’t holding any vials, because they would have slipped right through my fingers and shattered on the floor. I recovered from the shock quickly, but not quickly enough. Rusty smiled.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said evenly, glaring at the distiller.

“Okay fine, have it your way,” he said in a patronizing tone that made me want to strangle him. Just when I was starting to enjoy working with him, too.

I wanted to pretend what he’d said hadn’t gotten to me, but anything I did right now was just going to dig me in deeper. If I objected again, it’d look like I was protesting too much. If I said nothing, it’d look like he won. If I left, it would _prove_ he’d won. I wished we were at a stage in the process where I could measure or mix something, rather than just stand around here waiting. After a few minutes of silently watching the solution drip, I sighed.

“How long have you known?”

“Only a few weeks.” He patted my hand, as if this somehow lessened the blow. “I had Brock look into it once I saw the sort of projects you were coming up with.”

Fucking Brock. Of _course_ the OSI guy would make quick work of my fake identity. My lip curled angrily. “I’m _not_ working for him. I just wanted to get hired on my own fucking merits.”

“Your fucking merits, or your scientific ones?” He bumped his shoulder against mine, amused with himself.

I scowled.

“Sorry, sorry.” He held up his hands in surrender. “I just find it a little hard to believe that you went through all the trouble of a name change just to get hired on your own merits.”

“I went through the trouble of a name change because I want nothing to do with my dad, okay?” I snapped. “I haven’t seen him in five years.”

He looked at me seriously for a moment. I was glaring at the distiller again, but I could feel his eyes on me. “Okay,” he said after what felt like forever.

“Okay what?” I asked guardedly.

“Okay.” He shrugged. “Whatever. I don’t really care anyway, so I guess I believe you.”

“Are you going to tell anyone?” An unpleasant thought occurred to me. “Or do they all already know, too?”

“Of course they do.” He sighed dramatically. “Nobody _cares_ , Jane.”

“Oh,” I said flatly.

Rusty started to giggle. “You really thought this was some super big secret, didn’t you! You thought you were so smooth with your secret identity! That it was _so_ important nobody find out!” He giggled more.

I glowered at him. “I hate you.”

“You hate me for _not_ caring that you got a job under false pretenses? You want me to fire you, would that feel better?”

I’d lost this one, and I knew it. My shoulders sagged. “No.”

“Okay then!” he said, as if that settled everything. I guess in his mind, it did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have way too much fun writing Rusty.


	7. Chapter 7

We worked another five hours with no further discussion on the subject. I was fading by then, and the solution had _finally_ finished heating to the temp we wanted, so I fanned a yawn and started packing things up. Rusty had fallen asleep at the table, slumped over with his head resting on his arms. I couldn’t work out whether I was still mad at him or not, but I wasn’t going to be the one to wake him up and get him to his bed. I wasn’t his fucking mom.

I grabbed my purse, mumbled something to Billy about pulling an all-nighter, and headed out the door. I drowsed on the train home, nearly missing my stop. Fuck, Jane, you stupid bitch, you fucking train wreck. First you let your guard down so much that some henchman shoots you with a dart in your own home. Then you go ahead and just _tell_ somebody’s Number Two who you really are, because he makes you feel all funny and mushy inside. Then you make the mistake of underestimating Rusty, and he finds out your secret identity—and he doesn’t even care! And he _still_ hasn’t paid you, and on top of that you keep daydreaming about Gary, and how is that even going to work out, missy? You don’t date, remember?

And if you were going to date, Rusty would be the much better bet. He has money, he knows what it’s like to have an asshole dad, you enjoy doing science with him, and he has a bodyguard to make sure you don’t get him killed or anything. He’s not terrible in bed and he’s fun to be around sometimes. He’s not some sweet pop culture geek who’ll debate X-men with you, take you to IHOP, and probably wind up breaking your heart.

My brain kept cycling through that until I staggered through the door of my apartment building. I stopped long enough to grab my mail on the way in; it consisted of lots of bills and a clean bill of health from my ob-gyn. Stellar. Now I was clear to fuck the guy I’d been trying to avoid thinking about. Just fantastic. I was in a foul mood by the time I stumbled into my unit, fell into bed, and passed out.

I woke up about six hours later, which was lucky because I hadn’t thought to set my alarm. I brushed my teeth, ran a comb through my hair, drank a protein shake, and realized I should probably shower if I didn’t want to turn up at the club smelling like chemicals. That used up most of the remainder of my time, but I managed to put on some make-up and get out the door just a few minutes later than usual. Maybe I could still catch my train?

Nope. Got to the station literally in time to see it pull away. Fuck. Fuck fucking fuck. I hated today. I _hated_ today. I opened up my phone to text one of the two coworkers I knew well enough to text, and saw a message from Gary waiting for me. I swiped it away so I could inform Shaundra that I was running late and ask her to cover for me till I arrived. _Fine, bitch, but you owe me,_ she wrote back. Awesome. Nothing like being in debt to a cocktail waitress who dressed like sexy pirate. I really hated today.

As I waited for the next train to come in, I paced around irritably, trying to run away from this crappy day. Somebody had left a newspaper lying on one of the benches, and by some miracle it was actually today’s. I picked it up and skimmed the front page but was disappointed to learn Armageddon hadn’t kicked off in the past twenty-four hours. With the mood I was in right now, I would have welcomed it.

Okay, time to acknowledge what I’d noticed when I picked up my phone to text Shaundra: Gary had written early this afternoon. Alright, fine, I had nothing better to do, I’d look at it. _How did it go at the lab last night?_ Generously not pointing out that I hadn’t written him back in the last 24 hours since telling him I was working late. I at least owed him an answer to that, right? _Fine but took longer than I thought. Passed out when I got home._

I didn’t get an immediate answer, which either meant he was busy right now or he didn’t know how to respond to that. I hadn’t exactly left it open for further conversation, but I was still somehow a little wounded not to get a response. _How are you?_ I added impulsively. _I miss you._

What? Fuck! No, why did I send that? Delete!

Of course I couldn’t delete it, though. Chalk it up to yet another moment of weakness. What kind of idiot was I turning into lately?

_I miss you too_ came up while I was staring at my phone screen. _Are you free tonight?_

I wanted to say yes, which made it a very good thing that I had to say no. _Nope. On my way to Costume Party right now. Wish I wasn’t though. I fucking hate today._

 _What happened?_ he wrote back.

And because I was stuck there waiting for the next train, I told him. Not all of it, of course. I didn’t tell him about _him_. But I told him about Rusty knowing my secret, and I told him about oversleeping and reeking of thials and having to scrub myself in the shower forever and missing the train and having to call in a favor. And I _still_ had to spend the next six hours at the club, after which I’d get maybe six hours of sleep before I had to get up and head back into the lab. Where I’d probably work late again because I was invested in this special project now. He interjected lots of good supportive comments like _Oh man_ and _That sucks_ , which made me feel a little bit better.

By the time I was done, I was actually on the train. _Why do you care if people know who you are?_ He asked reasonably when I stopped sending angry texts. _You told ME._

_You’re different,_ I wrote back. _I told you voluntarily!_

 _Yeah,_ he responded, _but it sounds like you still got hired without him knowing who you were. So who cares?_

I hadn’t thought about it like that and had to consider before answering. _Because he’s sticking his nose into my personal affairs!_

_Well yeah. He’s your boss. And you did kinda sleep with him._

_So now you’re on Rusty’s side?_ I responded irritably. _I’m telling The Monarch on you!_ Even as I typed the words, I could feel some of my frustration dissolving. Just a tiny bit.

Enough that when he wrote back _No, I’m on YOUR side_ , my face was relaxed enough to smile.

_I gotta go,_ I told him as we approached my station. _Almost to work._

 _What time do you get off,_ he asked.

_1:00,_ I answered, making for the door as the train slowed. _Want me to check in on my ride home?_

 _Just let me know you’re alright,_ he said. It wasn’t until I was halfway down the block to Costume Party that I realized how dramatically my mood had improved. And that I’d promised to text him as soon as I got off work. I just kept digging my own grave, didn’t I. Jane, I scolded myself, you’re supposed to be staying away from this guy. But I was still smiling sunnily as I slipped through the back entrance of the club and changed into my work outfit.

Black heels. Black velvet miniskirt. Black velvet bikini top. Black belt with cat tail. Black headband with cat ears. I picked up one of the communal black make-up sticks and looked in the mirror to draw on some whiskers and a cute little cat nose as quickly as I could. That’d do. I stashed my phone and purse and hurried out into the crowded club.

It only took me a minute to track down Shaundra, who spotted me as soon as she finished taking an order. “There you are!” She looked relieved as she leaned in close to me, but that didn’t stop her from opening with “Did you just roll out of bed? You look like shit.” I rolled my eyes and let her get to the point. “I don’t think anyone noticed you weren’t here, but I’m fucking _swamped_. Go see what the hell table six needs already, they’ve been trying to flag me down for like, ten minutes now.”

I wound my way through the crowd as quickly as I could. The patrons were a mix of regulars and tourists. Some of them came in their own costumes, most of which were way better than the ones the staff wore. The group at table six was in regular club attire, though. Collared shirts on the guys, tight dresses on the girls. One of the guys checked me out unapologetically, but the ones with girls next to them were a little more subtle.

I slapped on my best smile. “Hi, I’m Jane! Sorry to keep you waiting. What can I get you?”

“Finally,” one of the girls declared. “We’ve been waiting for _ever_ and no one has taken our order yet!”

That was clearly not true, because they all had empty glasses in front of them, but I knew better than to object. “I’m so sorry,” I repeated. “What can I get you?”

It was the start of a long night. The closest thing I got to a lull was when one patron in full cosplay spent fifteen minutes trying to explain her favorite anime to me while I tried to politely explain that I had other tables waiting. As usual, the music was loud and the patrons were in various states of drunkenness. I had to clean up a few spills and one puddle of vomit. I got my ass grabbed several times, despite the signs around reminding patrons to not touch the staff—though one of the offenders also left me a fifty-dollar tip, so whatever. I was pretty sure the kid in the Batman costume skipped out on his bill.

If, like Shaundra said, I’d looked like shit when I walked in the door, then I didn’t even want to think about how I looked by the last hour of my shift. I was tired and crabby all over again, and the cologne one of these assholes had apparently bathed in was giving me a headache. Oh great, someone new at table nine. I made my way over, trying not to look as exhausted as I felt. At least this was just one person. And in costume—for some reason the costumed ones always seemed to tip better. What was he supposed to be, though? A giant bee? No, a butterfly. Why would you go with bee colors if you wanted to look like a…wait a second.

The Monarch had plenty of henchman. It was possible some of them would go out to a club on their night off. But in their uniforms? Well, maybe. But even with half his face obscured by a mask, I recognized this one.

“Gary?” I stopped next to his table, craning forward for a better look. “What are you doing here?”

He pushed his mask up and smiled at me. “I came to see you.”

I was actually speechless.

When I failed to respond, he started to look worried. “I mean, I thought, you know, maybe when your shift ends, I could give you a lift home? You sounded like you could use, um. Some company?”

I blinked slowly. “You brought your car?” The parking around here was pretty limited. I’d have been amazed if he’d been able to get a spot.

“Not exactly.” He smiled again, making my stomach do a little somersault. “You look incredible.”

“No I don’t.” I rolled my eyes, but my lips twitched into an answering smile anyway.

“Well _I_ think you do,” he said firmly.

My smile turned into a grin. “Thanks. Listen though, my shift’s not over yet.”

“Oh, I know. You told me, remember?”

Had I? Oh yeah. “Right.” I shook my head a little bit, trying to make it start functioning again. “So can I get you anything?”

“Just a beer.”

“Wanna be any more specific?” I raised my eyebrows.

“Surprise me,” he said, leaning back in his seat.

“You realize that means I’m just going to grab you the first bottle I see, right?” I hoped he didn’t expect me to put any serious thought into this, because I was pleased to see him but I didn’t have the time or energy for that kind of effort.

“Yeah, I know.” He pulled his mask back down, covering his eyes.

I nodded briskly and ran to grab a beer. Despite my resolve to put no thought into it whatsoever, I decided on the way that he wasn’t an IPA kind of guy. Nothing pretentious there. Something basic and domestic. I grabbed a Bud and got him a glass of water for good measure. And I managed a glance at the clock while I was getting them—twenty minutes left to go.

Those last twenty minutes seemed to go on forever, but I was busy enough that I didn’t have a lot of time to overthink the situation. I hadn’t intended to see him again, okay, but he was here now and offering me a ride home. I’d been on my feet in stilettos for six hours, so I wasn’t going to turn that down.

And I liked him.

Finally, it was one a.m. I went straight to Gary’s table. “Give me just a sec to change out of this,” I told him, “then we can get out of here.”

He’d finished his beer and was drawing something on his napkin. “I’m fine, take your time.”

I made a beeline for the back room, where I promptly kicked off my heels and stripped off my outfit, sighing with relief as I pulled my regular jeans and tank back on. I looked in the mirror again as I rubbed off the stupid cat whiskers. Shaundra was a lot closer to the truth, if you asked me. Technically my make-up was perfect and my body was curvy and toned, but beneath it all I looked as beat as I felt. Oh well, not much I could do about _that._ I used the bathroom, grabbed my stuff, and headed back out to get Gary.

He got to his feet as soon as he saw me coming, and together we threaded our way past the dance floor and bar to reach the exit. As soon as the cool night air hit me, I took a deep breath of it and rolled my shoulders. “So where’s your not-exactly-a-car?” I asked, looking around for a motorcycle or something. “I’ve been standing in heels for six hours, so…”

“Right here,” he told me, pointing his thumb over his shoulder.

The only thing behind him was the door we’d just left through. I stared at him. He grinned. He flapped his giant orange wings.

I blinked. “Those things actually _work_?”

“Yup.” He seemed proud of this fact and flapped a few more times, lifting his feet off the ground.

“Nice!” I took a minute to admire the mechanics of it. Robotics wasn’t my specialty, but I knew enough to know that costume wings which could actually lift a man were no easy feat. “Wait. You’re saying _that’s_ your car.” Regular genius, that was me. So quick on the uptake. Gary nodded. I blanched. “I wouldn’t know how to use them.”

“You don’t have to,” he assured me.

I blanched a little more. “There’s no way those things can lift your weight plus mine.”

“I have it on good authority they can carry up to five hundred pounds.” He put a hand on my arm, probably to reassure me. “Come on, it’ll be fun! Have you ever seen the city from up high?”

Yes. I’d been in the top floors of some of the tallest buildings. Where there were panes of unbreakable glass protecting me from the drop. “I don’t know about this.”

“Aw, come on.” This was the closest I’d seen him to sulking since I debunked his theory on the Smurfs. “I wouldn’t let anything happen to you. You can trust me!”

I let out a sigh that was only slightly shaky. “I do, but I just…I’d rather walk. It’s not that far to the station.”

“You don’t like heights?” he asked, showing concern.

I shrugged his hand off my shoulder. “No, heights are fine. I used to live in a fucking skyscraper, remember?”

“So what are you worried about?”

“I’m not scared of _heights_ ,” I reiterated firmly. “But falling…that’s a little scary.”

“Oh, that’s alright then.” I could _hear_ the excitement in his voice. “We’re not going to fall.” He put his arms around my waist, turning me so that my back was flush against his chest, and tightened his arms over my midsection.

I realized what he was doing in time to fight it, and I almost jerked my elbow back into his stomach. But I didn’t. Because damn it all to hell, I _did_ trust him.

I still shut my eyes as I felt my feet leave the ground. His wings flapped repeatedly as we rose—I could feel each gust of air as well as hear it. The way my feet were dangling in thin air was unnerving, but his arms felt warm and secure around my waist. I realized I was holding my breath, and let it out.

The wings were flapping a little less frequently now, and I could feel the wind on me even between beats. We were moving forward, not up. My curiosity got the better of me, and I opened my eyes.

We must have been five hundred feet up. We were flying even with the tops of some towering buildings, but not above the tallest of them. Below me, the city was a beautiful array of glowing streets and lighted windows, populated by tiny vehicles. We were too high up to even see the people.

It was terrifying. I could imagine his hands slipping, me sliding through, the wind rushing around me as I raced toward the ground. I shuddered and closed my eyes again.

“Are you seeing this? This totally rocks!” His voice was right in my ear, audible over the wind around us.

“Yeah,” I managed to answer, “I saw.”

“You’re not gonna fall, okay?”

“You don’t know that. What if your hands slip?”

“Then I’ll dive down and catch you again.” He sighed, picking up on my lack of enjoyment. “Okay, hold on.”

A minute later there was solid ground under my feet again. I opened my eyes. We were on a rooftop. A normal, crappy, unpopulated rooftop, about ten stories up. I sat down, my muscles going weak with relief.

Gary was still excited. “Oh man that was so cool! You gotta watch next time.” He was over by the edge of the roof, peering down. “You can see the people from here!”

I crawled over, feeling much better with something solid under me. It wasn’t a gorgeous sea of lights like it had been from higher up, but it was still a good view. “Do you actually know how to get to my place?” I asked, watching a tiny taxi stop for a miniature person. “Because I don’t, not from up here.”

“Kinda?” He was still captivated by the view. “I know what direction to go in.” He turned his attention back to me. “You really grew up here?”

“Yes,” I answered. “And no.” I looked down at the people again. “I was never one of them. I…didn’t get out that often.” I had some memories of shopping with Trent, of going to play in Central Park. But most of my time out in the city had been as an adult.

Gary didn’t seem to care, though. “Wow. Did you ever, like, open the window and try to spit on people?”

I looked at him. How did he do that? How did he always say these things that dredged up feelings I’d forgotten about, ones that made me smile? “Yeah,” I admitted with a grin. “All the time.”

“Awesome,” he declared with utter sincerity.

We looked over the edge of the building in silence for a minute. Then I scooched forward to the edge, worked up a big mouthful of saliva, and spat it straight downward. I couldn’t see where it landed, of course, but none of the tiny people walking down there paused and looked up. “Damn. Your turn.”

I watched as he did the same thing, childish glee on his face. Ugh, he was so cute. He had no right to be this cute. I worked up some more spit and tried again. This time a couple of people on the ground stopped and looked up. I doubted they could see us through the darkness, but all the same I ducked back behind the edge of the roof, giggling.

Gary ducked back with me. “Oh man, you totally hit them! That was epic!”

My face hurt from smiling this hard. “Sweetheart, is it raining?” I put on an affected female voice that wasn’t my own, following it with my idea of a deep gentleman’s voice. “No, my dearest darling, I don’t feel any rain. Well then what could it have been? Surely just something dripping off an awning, nothing to be concerned about, come along dear.” I giggled some more. “Your turn again.”

“Okay.” We both wiggled back to look over the edge, shoulder to shoulder. He waited until a group of obviously drunken guys stumbled down the sidewalk laughing loudly before letting his spit fall. We watched as it disappeared out of sight, then quickly pulled back when we heard an indignant shout from below. I had to clap my hand to my mouth to contain my laughter this time. Gary was giggling, too. He pushed his mask up from his face and wiped tears from the corners of his eyes. My laughter subsided as I watched him and it dawned on me how _happy_ I was right now.

I leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. I kept my face right there afterward, and he turned his head toward me. It wasn’t a hot, urgent kiss. Instead, it was sweet enough to yank at my heartstrings. Damn it, what was I doing?

I sighed, pulled back, and rested my forehead on my knees. “Shit,” I muttered.

“What’s wrong?” Instant anxiety in his voice, like he thought _he’d_ done something wrong.

I looked at him unhappily. “I was trying _not_ to see you again.”

“Oh,” he said, sounding and looking hurt. He turned his face the other way, but seconds later he turned it back. “I’m confused. You _just_ kissed me.”

“Right,” I agreed miserably. “Because I like you and I was having a great time.”

“So…” He looked at me helplessly, waiting for some kind of explanation that I didn’t really have. “I don’t get it.”

I sighed again, staring over his shoulder into the distance. “How’s this supposed to work, Gary? I _want_ to keep seeing you, but realistically you know it’s going to end in disaster.”

He looked at me steadily. I could tell he already understood, but he was going to make me spell it out. “I don’t _know_ anything.”

I shook my head. “Right, but no one _knows_. But it doesn’t take a genius to see how it’s going to play out, either. The Monarch finds out we’re dating. He keeps trying to exploit that—and us, _me_ —to get him into VenTech to fuck with Rusty. And even if I wanted to be a party to that, which I don’t really even though I’m pissed at him right now, it would get me fired. I don’t _want_ to get fired. I like my job.”

Gary snorted. “He hasn’t even paid you yet! Come work for us instead.”

I raised my eyebrows. “First, no offense, but I don’t think you’ve got the kind of lab set-up I’d want. Second, are you telling me The Monarch would actually, knowing who I am, put me on the payroll instead of keeping me as a tool against the Ventures?”

His shoulders sagged. “Not really. That’s why I’ve been trying to keep him from finding out!”

“You are?” The idea that we could get away with it was tempting, but I tried not to get excited. Long-term, it would be impossible. And I knew I was going to _want_ long-term, sonofabitchdammitfuck.

“Uh, duh? That’s why I got so upset at people seeing you at the house the other day?”

That hadn’t even _occurred_ to me, because obviously I was an idiot. The corner of my mouth pulled up just a little bit. He hadn’t been ashamed of me, he’d been trying to protect me. “How _did_ that go, after I left? You never said.”

“I convinced him you were someone from the Guild.” I knew my face registered surprise because he grinned briefly. “What? It’s hardly even a lie. You used to be!”

“I _used_ to be a faceless henchman in a powder-blue bodysuit, who he probably never met and would never recognize in a million years.” I paused. “You sure he didn’t figure it out?”

He turned it over in his mind carefully. “Nah, I don’t think so. My ability to get laid isn’t something he really cares about. He’d already forgotten about it by that night.”

“Sounds like an awesome best friend,” I scoffed, and immediately regretted it when I saw the hurt flash across his face. “Sorry.”

He shrugged. “Anyway, I think we’re safe.”

“He hasn’t…noticed when you take off for a few hours?” I asked hesitantly. Again, that seemed like the sort of thing a best friend who lived with you would notice.

“Nah, he texted me three times already asking where I am,” he admitted with a wry smile. “But I told him I was doing some practice with the wings, which is totally true.”

“Slick,” I smirked.

“So?” He asked after a minute. “What do you want?”

Ha, like _I_ knew? “Babe, I have no fucking idea.”

He thought about it. “Tell you what.” He stopped again and thought some more. “What if…crap.” More thinking, his face screwed up with effort this time. “Well this _sucks_.” He shoved his heel angrily against the roof. “I don’t want to stop seeing you.”

“I don’t either,” I admitted. “Let’s just…I mean, we’re here now. Let’s just enjoy it.” I jumped to my feet in one movement. “Want to go back to my place?”

He nodded vigorously. Good. I stepped in close and kissed him again. We’d figure the rest out later. Right now I was here with him, and I was happy about it, and everything else could wait. I shoved the thoughts and worries forcefully away from me and kissed him on the rooftop for a long time.

“Okay,” I said, taking a deep breath. “I trust you. And I like the _feeling_ of flying. But I can really do without the view.” I wrapped my arms tight around his middle, pressing my face flush against his chest. “Can we do it like this?”

“Sure. I guess.” His arms closed around my waist again, just below where I was holding him. This felt safer. Four hands holding me in place instead of two. I wasn’t going to plummet to my death like _this_. “I still can’t believe you’re afraid of heights.”

“Afraid of falling,” I corrected him.

“Can you not hold me quite that hard?” Gary asked uncomfortably. “You’re kind of, uh, squeezing…”

“Sorry.” I loosened my grip at once, but he continued to look pained. “You okay?”

“Yep. Totally.” His wings started beating, but they didn’t mask the distinctive sound of a fart as we lifted off the ground.

“Um.” I said, trying not to giggle as we rose into the air. I wrapped my legs around his and tightened my grip again as we left the rooftop behind. There was another, longer one. Absolutely no mistaking that sound.

“I said stop squeezing me!” he protested, clearly mortified.

Unable to help myself, I lost it. I muffled my giggles in his chest, but I was shaking with laughter. “How long were you holding that?” I managed once I’d gotten myself under control.

“Are you done laughing?” he asked, still sounding painfully embarrassed. “It’s hard to hold you when you’re laughing.”

“Sorry,” I muttered, but saying it just started me laughing all over again.

“It’s kinda hard to believe you’re the same lady who tried to seduce me and threatened to make me puke up my colon.” The embarrassment was fading from his voice. “I never figured you’d be scared of heights or spit off buildings.”

“Or laugh at gas?” I added.

“Or be into me at all,” he concluded.

“I’m a woman of many talents,” I told him seriously. “But don’t sell yourself short. Number Two to a level-ten villain? Not bad for a kid from the suburbs! And even if you weren’t, I’d still think you were cute.” I thought he’d have a response to that, but it seemed like he didn’t. So I went back to my original question. “So how long _were_ you holding it?”

“Since we left the club,” he admitted.

I still had my eyes closed and my limbs wrapped around him like a baby gorilla, but I answered as if we weren’t hundreds of feet up in thin air. “That’s nothing. A few months back I was working a double shift, and I made the mistake of having an almond bar before going in. About halfway through my first shift, it hits. Worst gas of my life. Had to walk around the club taking orders for _ten hours_ with my butt clenched.”

“No way!”

“Oh yeah.” I grimaced in triumph and pain at the memory. “Busy night, no time for bathroom breaks, and sexy black cats do not fart.”

“That’s so wrong.”

I would have shrugged, if I hadn’t still been clinging to him for dear life. “That’s how it is.”

“You are so awesome,” he told me, so sincerely that I had to laugh.

“I’m really not. What, because I can hold in a fart and walk in high heels?”

“No. Cause you’re awesome.”

No, I’m a disaster, I thought. I’m a seething mess of guilt and anger and brains walking around in an attractive package. But I didn’t say it. “Thanks,” I said instead. “So are you.”

I could feel us moving downward in a swoop and clung to him tighter than ever. “We’re at Broadway and 82nd,” he informed me. “That’s close, right?”

“A little further east and a couple more streets up,” I answered breathlessly. “Next time warn me before you do that.”

Once we evened out, I did enjoy the caress of the wind. Maybe I could get used to this. It was certainly faster than taking the train, and the only person I had to get close to was someone I already liked—which was a _serious_ point over the train at eight in the morning. I was considering opening my eyes again when Gary told me we were almost there. I braced myself as we dipped, convinced his wings had stopped beating for too long and this was a plunge. But then the movement stopped, and I realized we were standing on the sidewalk again. Well, one of us was. I unwrapped my legs from him and put my feet down, stepping back shakily and looking around. We were half a block from my building.

“Nice,” I said, taking a few unsteady steps in the right direction. He caught up in two strides, and I felt his hand brush against mine. I held it. It felt right. “You know what I love about this city?” I asked, almost rhetorically.

“Spitting on people?”

I smiled. “Yeah, well, besides that. I love that you can fly over the street in a butterfly costume in the middle of the night, land right in the middle of West End, and not have anyone look twice at you.”

“Herman,” shrieked a voice from a nearby window, “it’s one of those God-damned superheroes again! Yes, right outside! I’m _telling_ you—”

“Maybe we should get inside,” Gary suggested, fighting a smile.

I nodded. “This way.”

We took the main steps into the building, then down again to the basement level. I wrestled my keys out of my purse, studiously ignoring the peeling paint and broken light in the hallway as I unlocked my door. The inside was tiny and crappy, too. Not like I spent a whole lot of time here. No sofa, just a table with a solitary chair, the world’s smallest closet, and my twin bed. There was my towel, still damp from my shower before work, lying in the middle of the floor. Yesterday’s clothes weren’t too far from it.

I shut the door and flopped down onto my bed. “I know it’s a disaster,” I told him, just in case he’d been about to say anything. “I left in a hurry.”

“It’s cool.” He unbuckled his wings before sitting down on the bed next to me.

“Thanks for the lift home,” I said, and immediately groaned at my unintended pun. “Terrible choice of words, ugh!”

He lay on his back next to me so that we were sideways on the bed, shoulders touching. “What’re you talking about, it was a great pun!”

“Yeah, but I wasn’t trying to _make_ a pun! Puns are awful!” I turned my head to the side, watching his face. “Thanks for turning up at work, too. It was a nice surprise.” I paused, rolling all the way onto my side and up against his. “I needed that.”

“I should’ve asked first,” he said uncomfortably, turning to face me. “I didn’t know you were…you know.”

“Up in my head?” I suggested. “Look, I’m not…” I sighed. “I’m not good at relationships. Usually that’s not a problem. Most of the guys I’ve fucked weren’t looking for one either. And even when they _do_ try to pursue me, it’s still not much of a problem because I don’t care about _them_. So this whole girlfriend thing…I don’t know what the hell I’m doing.” I snorted in bitter amusement at myself. “As evidenced by my talking about all the guys I’ve fucked while cuddling up next to you.” I sighed. “Please change the subject. Please, _please_ change the subject.”

A brief but super uncomfortably silence fell. “So, um…you wanna watch TV?” Gary sat up, looking around for a television.

Eagerly, I sprang up and pulled my laptop out from under my bed. “Netflix alright?”

He sat up too, brightening at the site of an internet connection. “Yeah, that’ll work!” He scooted back along my bed until his back was against the wall. I wiggled up next to him, booting up my laptop as I did. Given how much of a moron I’d just made of myself, I sat companionably but not intimately close.

“Don’t you wish they had all the old cartoons on Netflix?”

“Old like Rocky and Bullwinkle, old?”

“No, like Thundercats and Ninja Turtles.”

“Oooh.” I liked this change of subject. “Thundercats versus Ninja Turtles, who wins?”

“Are you kidding? The Thundercats outnumber the Turtles _and_ they have magical weapons! What’s gonna happen when Raphael comes at Lion-O with his sai, and Lion-O hits him with a bolt from the Sword of Omens?”

“So you think Thundercats, no contest?”

“Totally. I mean, just think about it. Mumm-Ra versus Shredder, who’s got the edge there?”

“Well yeah, but there were other villains besides Shredder. What about Krang?”

“The _brain_?” he demanded indignantly. “You think a brain is going to defeat an evil undead sorcerer?”

“He’s a brain with no body. He’s practically undead himself!”

Gary shook his head, but he also put his arm around my shoulders. “No way. Thundercats all the way. Though I’d rather hang out with the Turtles. They’re regular guys, and they could probably teach me some sweet moves.”

“Yeah, but you’d have to eat pizza with them,” I pointed out. “Do you remember the toppings they used to put on their pizza?”

His face screwed up in thought. “Marshmallows, right? That was one. And popcorn?”

I nodded, feeling vaguely sick just thinking about it. “And jellybeans. What sort of sick fuck puts jellybeans on a pizza?”

“They lived in the sewers!”

“Oh, so that just gives them a free pass on being disgusting?”

“Have you ever even _eaten_ a pizza?”

Ouch, this was getting personal. “Of course I have! I grew up in _New York_. Trent used to get them every Friday, and we’d eat the leftovers cold while we were watching cartoons the next morning.”

“Trent?” Gary asked, lifting an eyebrow.

Dammit, dammit, dammit! I pressed my hands into my forehead. “Bodyguard. You don’t want my whole life story, come on, let’s watch Farscape.”

“I thought you’d already told me your life story,” he said suspiciously.

“I did,” I agreed. “I just left out the really depressing bits.”

“Oh yeah.” He relaxed, and his arm stayed around my shoulders. I wished _I_ could relax. “You told me he died, right?” I nodded, leaning into him. “You didn’t tell me you used to watch cartoons together and stuff.”

I closed my eyes. “We did _everything_ together.” Just his name brought to mind images of a reassuringly strong figure in a dress shirt and tie. Never a jacket, for some reason. “He was…” I could hear the raw emotion in my voice, and I _hated_ it. “I’d rather not talk about it.”

“You sure?” Gary asked slowly. “I don’t mind. I’d kind of like to know, actually.”

“No you wouldn’t,” I mumbled into his shoulder. “Trust me.” He didn’t say anything that time, just ran his fingers back and forth over my upper arm. I stared at his neck for a while. Eventually I straightened up and took in a measured breath. “I’ve been kidnapped twice. Not counting you guys.” I flashed the briefest of smiles at that. “Once when I was seven, and once when I was seventeen. After the first time, Dad got me my own bodyguard. Trent.”

“Probably a good idea,” Gary interjected quietly.

“Of course it was. He kept me safe, he kept me out of Dad’s hair. And we got along great. From Dad’s point of view, it must have been a killer investment.” I sneered at the thought that the best part of my youth had been just a number on the payroll for my father. “For the next decade, Trent was always there, keeping me company, giving me advice, looking out for me. He was like a cross between a best friend and a parent.” And a lover. Couldn’t bring myself to say that part, though.

“Dude,” Gary said quietly.

I nodded. Even talking about it still tied my stomach in knots, because we both know what happened next in the story. “He stopped a couple abduction attempts over the years. He was good at his job. But the second time someone actually took me…” I forced the words out. “He got killed trying to rescue me.” I hadn’t seen it, thankfully. Dad telling me about it had been bad enough. I went silent for a minute, trying to shake off the memory of the worst day of my life.

“After that,” I went on at last, “Dad got super paranoid, and even more distant than he already was. I was just a fucking liability to him, gotta make sure Jane doesn’t get herself kidnapped again and cost me any more ransom money.” My smile was straight bitterness this time, nothing fond or sweet in it at all. Gary didn’t say anything, but the reassuring pressure of his hand on my shoulder kept me talking.

“He hired a new bodyguard, but he wasn’t Trent—I wanted nothing to do with him.” In retrospect, I wondered if maybe I’d refused to get to know the new guy because I was terrified that if I let him be a part of my life I’d get _him_ killed, too. “And if I wasn’t with a bodyguard, I wasn’t allowed to leave the building. Dad’s rules. So I spent a lot of time in my bedroom, reading and watching movies and avoiding pretty much everyone.”

“He didn’t let you out at _all_?”

My lip curled. “Nope. Not without an escort.”

“Yeesh.”

“Exactly.” I nodded, vindicated by his reaction. “Dad did think to hire me a shrink—ha, about ten years too late on that! But when I told her I’d been sleeping with Trent she tried to tell—”

“Wait, wait! I thought you said you were seventeen. You were _sleeping_ with him?”

I’d known I’d get this reaction. It was why I hadn’t mentioned it earlier. “Yes. Let me get this out, will you? I tried to tell this shrink about Trent, and she looked at me just like you’re looking at me right now.” Like I was some kind of victim. “And she told me he’d been a monster and a predator and basically said I had no business mourning him. So fuck her, right?”

Yes, I realized now that she hadn’t been completely wrong. Having a sordid affair with your teenage charge wasn’t cool. But he’d also died for me, and I was a heartbroken teenage girl. A good psychiatrist would have known better than to try framing it like that. “When I refused to see _her_ anymore, Dad tried again with a male therapist. Guess how _that_ went?”

Gary looked confused. Then he gasped. “He _didn’t_.”

“What, sleep with me? You bet your ass he did.” I could hear the cold anger in my voice. I should never have started this story. But now that I had, I couldn’t seem to shut up. “That’s one of the things they don’t print about Dick Impossible—what a _stellar_ judge of character he is.”

Gary winced.

“Despite it all,” I told him, ploughing ahead, “I aced my college entrance exams. Dad couldn’t stop me going unless he was willing to literally lock me in my room, which he wasn’t. So when school started up I left home and never went back. I was so glad to be out of that fucking prison that I went all hedonist Freshman year. Dad heard about it from the spooks he had watching me on campus, and periodically he’d send me stern messages about what an embarrassment or disappointment I was.”

“What the fuck!”

I nodded, feeling my face contort angrily at the memory. “Like he was any better, with his new wife five years older than me? She was his student when they hooked up. He got _fired_. How is that _any_ worse than anything I did?” Sally had come on the scene just a few months before Trent died—no wonder Dad’d had no time for my grieving. No, that wasn’t fair. He would have avoided my raw emotions even without the distraction.

Almost to the end of this happy little fairy tale. Time to wrap it up. “But he told me off. So what’s genius little Janey do? She starts going out of her way just to do things to piss him off.” I sighed, admitting the most depressing part of the whole story. “And I wound up screwing myself over in the process.

“So here I am!” I spread my hands like a presentation, encompassing everything I was in the gesture. “A brilliant, maladjusted college dropout with hardly any morals, even less inhibitions, no friends, and practically no money. Fantastic catch, right? Congratulations.”

“Hey, nobody’s perfect. I spent a year talking to the skull of my dead best friend.”

That was, somehow, the perfect answer. I smiled weakly. “Did he talk back?”

“Oh yeah, all the time. Gave some pretty good advice, too.”

“Damn it,” I sighed, relaxing against him. “I should have tried that instead of therapy. You clearly turned out better than I did.”

“Yeah, see? You could have been that crazy Goth chick who carried around the skull of her dead boyfriend.” He took a second to picture it. “That’s pretty badass, actually. I bet you could have made it as a villain with that gimmick.”

I laughed faintly. “I don’t think I’d have made a very good Goth.”

“Well, I know from earlier that you look good in black.”

I laughed again and snuggled closer. “Seriously, how can you want anything to do with me after hearing all that?”

“Um, you just talked about Thundercats and Ninja Turtles with me,” he answered, ticking things off on his fingers. “You’re crazy hot. You’re crazy _smart_. You know what it’s like to work with the Guild. And you have the best laugh I’ve ever heard.”

That last one, for some reason, was the one that got me. “You mean that?”

“Of course I do!”

I kissed his chest, enjoying the feeling of his arm around me. “Thanks.”

We held each other in comfortable silence for a while. Then I asked mildly “So do you still talk to him, ever?”

“Who, 24? Sometimes.”

I rubbed my cheek against his chest. He smelled faintly, pleasantly, of sweat. “Does he ever answer?”

Gary went silent a minute. I glanced up and saw him staring into the corner of my room. “Yeah, she asked….Dude, I don’t know!.... _No_ , you can’t watch if we do!...I don’t care that you’re dead!...That’s different….No!” He looked back down at me, meeting my eyes. “Not really. But I’ve got a pretty good imagination.”

I kissed his chest again, resenting the costume that was between my lips and his skin. “So, what, you don’t want your best friend watching us get naked?”

“Not really. We already kind of did that with The Monarch, remember?”

“Aw, but 24 is _dead_ ,” I teased, stroking my fingers up and down his chest. “He could really use the entertainment.”

“That’s exactly what he said!”

“Babe,” I leaned in close to his ear. “I am 100% cool with your imaginary friend watching what I want to do with you.” I brushed my lips against his cheek. The stubble was growing back, and its abrasiveness was seriously sexy. I also let my hand stray further down the front of his costume. “I promise I’ll make you forget he’s there.”

Gary put his hand on my cheek, and I leaned into his touch. It felt so good, so sweet and safe, that I actually forgot how much of a lie the illusion of safety was. I didn’t just like this guy. There was something about him that tapped into some deep need I hadn’t known I’d had. “You really want to do this right now?” he asked. That sort of question should have wrecked the mood, but it didn’t. “You were literally just hating on yourself, the timing seems kinda…” He trailed off vaguely, searching my eyes.

“Yes,” I whispered, hearing…what was that in my voice? Tenderness. “Yes. Right now. Yes. I want this.” I needed to explain, to articulate this swelling emotion inside me. “Nobody knows all that about me, Gary. _Nobody_. I don’t even know why I told you, exactly, but I spewed it all out and you’re still here and…” I paused to swallow, but my voice was still a little thick when I spoke again. “If you want to, yes. I feel close to you now. Like, _emotionally_ close, not just horny.” I swallowed again, looking up at him, feeling more vulnerable than I had in ten years. “I feel like…I think I l…” No, that was a bridge too far, I couldn’t. “I want to have sex with my boyfriend.”

“I’m your boyfriend?” he asked, almost in a squeak.

“Aren’t you?” Please say yes, please say yes, please say yes.

“I thought you were going to call this all off after tonight,” he said cautiously.

I shook my head. “I can’t. I changed my mind. I think I might be in…” My throat got too tight, and I stopped talking again.

“Yeah,” he agreed, tone hushed. “Me too.” I pushed myself up and he met me halfway, catching my face and kissing me. I shoved my laptop out of the way and pulled him down to the mattress with me.

Maybe I couldn’t say the word, but I felt it. I felt it in the way his hands pulled me close, in the way I stroked his face with my thumbs as I kissed him over and over, in the waves of emotion pulsing through me that were stronger than any orgasm. I needed him. I needed him in me, against me, all over me. I wanted to move with him, to share these overwhelming sensations. I didn’t want anyone else, I didn’t care if I came, I just wanted to be close.

We stripped our clothes off hurriedly. I was delighted to get him out of the stupid costume, immediately running my fingers over his skin and lowering my mouth to kiss the tattoo on his stomach. He gasped as my breasts brushed against his dick. I did it again because I could tell how much he’d liked it, but I didn’t want to be away from his face for any longer than that. I straddled him, kissing him almost frantically as his hands kneaded my breasts.

“I forgot to tell you.” I wasn’t quite panting, but my voice hitched as he kissed my throat. “I got the test results yesterday. Totally clean. Nothing for you to worry about.”

“What about, um, the other thing?”

I kissed him again. “IUD. You don’t need a condom unless you want one.”

“What do _you_ want?” he asked after catching his breath.

“I just want you,” I told him honestly.

“Cool,” he responded before lifting me off him and laying me down on my back. He kissed my mouth first. Then my throat. Right between my breasts. Back up, touching his lips to each shoulder. I whined I the back of my throat. This was better than when he ate the whipped cream off me. This felt like worship. I didn’t deserve to be worshipped, but he _knew_ that. And he was doing it anyway.

“You don’t have to—” I started as he kissed the soft indent just inside my left hip.

“I know,” he said, and I shut up.

He kissed me everywhere that _wasn’t_ inherently sexual. Little random places, like the inside of my knee or the base of my thumb, that were only special because he’d chosen to touch me there. Physically, I was soaking wet and crazy with frustration that he wasn’t already balls-deep in me. But this was about a lot more than sex. He wasn’t doing this to the pretty, motivated face I showed the rest of the world. He was doing this to _me_. And I felt…I felt fucking _cherished_.

“Gary.” I tugged on his arms, coaxing him back up toward my face. I was going to say something else, I know I was, but I forgot all about it as he pressed against me. I shifted my hips slightly and pressed back, gripping his shoulders as he slid in.

“Ohmigod,” he croaked as I let out a happy sigh. “That’s…whoa.”

“I know.” I clenched my internal muscles around him. “I can feel every line of you.”

He groaned faintly. I moved my hands from his shoulders down to his back and then his ass, holding him flush against me. He…I…we made love. Slow, close, passionate, indescribable. Perfect. I understood the way he’d kissed me before, because I wanted to kiss every inch of _him_ , too. My arms wound up around his upper back, hugging him to me as we moved together, my face buried in his neck. My orgasm snuck up on me, blossoming slowly and then coming to a peak as I felt him explode inside me.

I shouted out an affirmation as I came, subsiding into deep breaths as I sank into the mattress. He rolled off almost immediately rather than put his full weight on top of me. I rolled with him, snuggling up against his side and resting my head on him. “Thanks,” I told him in a satisfied whisper. “That was wonderful.”

“Yeah,” he agreed, gently brushing my hair away from my face. “That was great.”

“ _You’re_ great,” I said sincerely. I pushed forward with my elbows, planting my lips on the tip of his snub nose. His answering smile made my heart skip a beat or two. I lay my head back down and we stayed still and peaceful for quite a while.

“This is like our first night together,” I murmured drowsily after a bit.

“What, when you threatened to make me puke up my colon?” He sounded sleepy, too.

I giggled. “Are you ever going to let that go?”

“No way! It’s a good story.”

Couldn’t argue with that. I yawned. “Anyway, no. I meant ‘cause we had heart-to-hearts and snuggled half the night. This is like that.” I yawned again. “Only better.”

“What time _is_ it?” he asked, sounding a little more alert. He sat up, looking around for a clock. I didn’t have one, but his costume was within reach. I leaned over the edge of the bed to grab it. When I passed it to him, he patted at its legs until he found the phone concealed there and checked it. “Shit, almost four.”

That shouldn’t have been a shock by any stretch, but the implications dismayed me. “You don’t have to _go_ , do you?”

Gary looked genuinely surprised. “You want me to stay?” I nodded. He lay fully back down but hung on to his phone. “I need to be back by nine,” he explained regretfully.

I already had an arm back over his chest. “You can head home at eight just as easily as you can at four, right? You’ll get the same amount of sleep.” I nestled my head in the crook of his neck. “And you’ll get extra time with me.”

“Sleep isn’t exactly quality time, Janey.”

I stroked his cheek with the backs of my fingers. The way he tweaked my name like that made me feel warm all over. “I don’t care. I want you here. I want to sleep next to you.” I moved my hand, pressing it flat over his heart. “Please stay.”

“Okay.” He set an alarm on his phone before setting it down. I shoved his costume back off the bed. “Just don’t let me sleep past eight, alright?”

“I’ll do my best,” I promised, snuggling closer. I felt so safe and happy, it was unreal. “Do you want the lights off? Or a drink?”

“Lights off would be good,” he agreed. I crawled back out of bed one last time, flicking the light switch and ducking into the bathroom for some tissue for my inner thighs. On the way back I grabbed a bottle of water from my mini fridge. I took a few quick sips from it—hydration was important. I offered Gary the bottle, though with the lights off he was nothing more than a silhouette in the dark. Again, like the night we’d met. It hadn’t been that long ago, had it. But I’d spent so much time talking to him, texting him, being near him, that it felt like a lot longer.

He passed the bottle back to me, and I set it carefully down on the floor before climbing back into bed. He’d adjusted the covers while I was up, so I crawled under them. “This is nice,” I said softly, finding my spot in his arms.

“Totally,” he agreed, turning onto his side and making me the little spoon.

I let myself relax, and the day caught up with me. It had been a _long_ day. And it was so comfortable here. I could feel his breath on the back of my neck. This is it, I thought in awe. This is what I want. This.

“Gary?” I whispered.

“Mm-hm?”

Good, he was still awake. I hesitated before speaking again, but this time I got the words out. These things were easier to say, somehow, in the dark. “I think I love you.”

“Wow.” He sounded just as awed as I felt. “Really?”

I hugged his arms up against me, wondering if he could feel my heart thudding in my chest. “Yeah.”

His long sigh tickled my shoulder. “Well that’s a relief,” he told me. “Because I know I love you.”

I meant to say something else, but I couldn’t think of any words. I just held him as tightly as I could. Eventually my grip loosened, he started to snore softly, and I fell asleep in the sanctuary of his arms.


	8. Chapter 8

I woke up to the alarm. It took me a minute to process what I was hearing, because it wasn’t the same incessant beeping as the alarm I used. But then I went to roll over and felt someone against my back, and my brain started to work. I rolled carefully, trying not to disturb him—which was kind of stupid, since he’d set the alarm specifically to wake himself up. He mumbled something in his sleep and pulled me in closer. If not for the stupid annoying sound, I would have been fine just staying like that and going back to sleep. Where was it _coming_ from?

I wiggled free of Gary’s arms and sat up, looking around. The phone had been in bed somewhere, right? I didn’t have a nightstand. I thought I remembered him setting it down by the pillow, but there was no sign of it there. I leaned over him, poking around the covers, and he snorted and shifted. How was he sleeping through this? Sure, we’d only been asleep four hours or so, but this sound was annoying as fuck. I finally found it lodged under this thigh, though the sound got significantly louder when I pulled it free.

He sat up so fast it almost knocked me out of bed. There wasn’t that much space to start with, it was a miracle we’d both survived the night without falling out. “Shit!” His arm shot out automatically to steady me and pull me back in. “You okay?”

“Just tired.” I shut off the alarm before handing him his phone and dropping my head back to the pillow.

“Me too.” He ran a hand over his face.

My eyes were already trying to close again. I hadn’t thought I’d sleep _better_ with someone sharing my bed, but my body was really keen to get back to it. “I’m totally calling in today.”

“You can _do_ that?” I peeked between my lashes. He was still sitting up, but he’d resorted to resting his elbows on his knees and holding his head upright.

“Well, _I_ can. One of the few things Rusty told me lately that I liked.” Costume Party, now that was a different story. If I tried to call in _there_ , I’d get my ass fired. But for this, all I needed to do was shoot off a text message.

But where was my phone? Still in my purse by the door. Hopefully the battery wasn’t dead. Ugh. I pushed myself up and staggered out of bed to get it. “Behold,” I told Gary lethargically, sitting down on the side of the mattress as I typed out _Slept like crap last night. Keep going without me. See you tomorrow_ with my thumbs and hit send. “You should try it.”

“I don’t think that works as well when you live your boss,” he protested. He looked more awake now. I wondered if that had anything to do with me walking across the room and back totally naked. After setting my phone on the floor by my laptop, I stretched out on the mattress, smiling as his eyes followed me.

“Sorry,” he apologized needlessly, sticking his hand out and copping a quick feel. “I just have to.” I was entertained, and he went ahead and touched me again, for longer.

I was feeling a little more awake now, too. I put my hand between his legs. “Call in,” I asked again, more persuasively.

“I don’t really…” I watched his Adams apple bob up and down.

I kissed just beneath it as I stroked my fingers back and forth. “Come on, don’t you think you’re entitled to a day off?”

“You know what? Yeah!” He pulled me toward him, burying his face between my breasts. I smiled at my victory until he ran his thumbs around my nipples, at which point I moaned faintly instead.

It hadn’t occurred to me that there would be this kind of perk when I asked him to stay the night. Starting the day with sex? That was an _incredible_ way to wake up. I wanted to do this every damn morning. Open my eyes, roll over, spend ten minutes or so riding my boyfriend before I had to face the real world.

Afterward I was in no hurry to clean up and leave our nice little nest. I stayed draped over him, feeling the sparse hairs on his chest against my cheek. Damn it, now he’d probably leave. I should have made him call _before_ I gave it up, to ensure he’d have to stick around. Normally I would have thought of things like that…though then again, I normally wouldn’t have wanted someone to stick around. I wasn’t used to being in love. This was going to take practice.

“Can I get up?”

“Hm?” I pretended I hadn’t caught that so I could get a few extra seconds. Damn it, he _was_ going to leave now. I shouldn’t feel so bereft.

“Janey?” He patted my ass lightly but urgently until I let him sit up. “I need to pee _so bad_.”

“Oh!” I moved out of the way, letting him get up and hurry to the bathroom. I hadn’t gotten a clear view of his butt before now, so I blatantly watched him cross the room. The butterfly tattoo was ridiculous, and he didn’t have the tightest ass, but I smiled like a dope anyway.

It was tempting to pick up his phone while he was in there and send a message to The Monarch saying he couldn’t make it to work today. But he wouldn’t want me to, and that knowledge stopped me doing it. Weird.

“ _So_ much better,” he stretched expansively as he came back out. His hair was sticking up in several different directions, and the stubble on his chin was long past five o’clock shadow. But oh man, the muscles in those arms and the way that smile lit up his eyes.

“Wanna go back to sleep?” I asked, patting the bed.

“Oh _totally_.” He looked around for his phone. I passed it to him. He stood beside the bed and stared down at the little screen intently without typing anything.

“You don’t know what to say, do you,” I observed sympathetically.

“I’m thinking!”

I backed off, curling up under the blankets while I waited. Between the sleep deprival and the sex, I felt incredibly relaxed and drowsy.

“Um…oh!” He started texting, reading it aloud for my benefit. “Three. Congrats my man, you’re in charge today. Don’t blow it. Make sure someone picks up the dry cleaning and buys groceries. Dr. Mrs. likes the Donut Shop Keurig cups. NOT DECAF. Don’t skip training. I’ll know.”

I traced my finger along his leg. “ _Will_ you know?”

He grinned. “Hell no! I’m just hoping he keeps things running well enough that no one misses me.” He set his phone down and joined me in bed again. We lay on our sides, face to face, inches apart. “You sleep alright?”

“Me? Best sleep I’ve ever had. Why do you think I got you to stay longer?”

“Because you’re being nice?”

A laugh rubbed against the back of my throat, coming out in little snorts of amusement. Right. Me. Nice. Gary caught on to the joke and we smiled at each other. This was so weird. But in a good way. Good kind of weird. I liked it.

After cuddling for a few minutes, I dozed off. He must have, too, because we both jolted awake at the sound of a ringing phone. “Oh no,” Gary said, reaching for his cell. “It’s him.” I made a face that hopefully said _ohshitsorrygoodluck_ , but there wasn’t anything I could really do to help. So I lay back to listen.

“Oh, hey…yeah, I put Lou in charge…Number Three…yeah, the short one…I’m not feeling the best today, I think I ate something bad last night…no, don’t come up! I’m in the bathroom!...yeah thanks…okay, I will…bye.” He hung up and dropped back onto the bed, nearly squashing me. “I just lied to my best friend.”

“Who is also your boss,” I reminded him. “And it was for love. He’s married, he understands love, right?”

“Yeah, sure…” He shifted, putting his elbow on my hair.

“Ow!” I had to quell my instincts to lash out physically. “Move your elbow!”

He grimaced and moved, thankfully. “Sorry. Sure, he’s a romantic, he’d get it. But you don’t want me to _tell_ him, right?”

“Well…” I tried to corral my brain into coherent thought. “He already saw me. You said I was with the Guild. Why can’t you just tell him you’re seeing some henchwoman? If he’s really your friend, I’d think he’d be happy for you.”

Gary shook his head. “If I have to. But I’m trying not to draw attention to you at all. It’s too easy to figure out.”

I wrapped my arms around him. “Thanks, babe. You’re so thoughtful.”

He ran his palm over my upper arm. “You’re so _smooth_.”

The edges of my mouth curved up. “I guess I am.” And he was welcome to touch me as much as he wanted. The friction of his hand brushing over my skin made me understand why cats purr when people pet them. I turned into it, encouraging him.

I was demonstrating my total lack of gag reflex when the phone rang again. Gary made a strangled sound of frustration, and I pulled back and glared at the phone as he answered it. “What do you mean, what do you get? There was a grocery list _on the fridge_ …I don’t see how that’s my problem!...do you even have the dry cleaning slip?...well I guess you better go back then, huh?” He hung up. I was smirking. “What?” He demanded.

“You’re cute,” I told him, coaxing him back to full attention. “Helping out the little henchmen.”

“They’re hopeless,” he said, but stopped complaining when I went back to using my tongue.

The phone rang again. “Are you kidding me?” he exclaimed, grabbing it and answering without thinking. I slowed what I was doing but didn’t stop this time, entertained by the idea of him trying to navigate a call with an erection the size of the Empire State Building. “What now? Can’t you even—oh crap. Hi….why’d you have to do that?...yeah, okay, I’m not sick, you got me. I’m stuck in…no you know what? I’m taking the day off! I never get a day off and I’m taking one!...yeah, I’ll see you tonight.” He hung up and stared at me. “That felt amazing.”

“I’m not even done yet.” I winked at him. “Oh, you meant sticking it to The Man?”

He started to laugh, but I went back to sucking and the sound changed to something else. He gave up on talking for a while. I was enjoying myself. Making the muscles in his thighs shake like this was crazy hot. I couldn’t make up my mind whether I wanted to make him finish that way, or climb on top of him and feel him coat my insides. He came while I was still trying to decide. Cool, now I’d had breakfast. Protein.

I got a drink of water while he was still recovering. “I knew you could do it,” I reminded him happily. “And now we have the whole day to enjoy.” We’d only been asleep an extra hour and a half, but I was feeling bouncy and perky now. “What do you want to do first?”

The next seven hours were straight-up great. After lying in bed talking for another half hour, Gary admitted that he was starving. I offered him a protein shake and laughed when he looked at me like I’d personally insulted him. We got dressed and ventured out to grab a bagel. Despite the fact that he had no clothes on hand except his butterfly costume, I held his hand on the street and beamed at everyone we passed. He told me funny stories and I snorted black coffee out my nose. We debated music on the walk back, and watched Netflix and Youtube together on my laptop while sitting on my bed. We only made it through two episodes, because he kept bringing up the most ridiculous questions and I’d pause the show to discuss it. We made out and wound up having sex again. It was fantastic.

And it was all over way too quickly. I was still enjoying myself, getting ready to start up a comparison video of the original Karate Kid and the remake, when I noticed it was five o’clock. That meant I had to be at work in an hour, and Gary had wanted to be back in Jersey before supper.

“So, we wind up totally trashing the place _with_ Ünderbheit’s guys,” he was saying. “Graffiti, toilet paper, the works. And there’s this Ünderland kid who’s barely old enough to drink, he gets totally trashed on a couple beers. He keeps throwing this roll of TP at the main entrance, trying to get it up on the roof, and every time it falls about ten feet short, but he keeps trying! I’m just sitting there in the grass watching him, practically peeing my pants from laughing, right? And he turns around like he totally forgot I was there and tells me to stand on his shoulders! And he’s like this tiny little guy so I’m all no, I don’t think so dude…”

I didn’t want to interrupt him, but this story didn’t seem to have any end in sight. I put a hand on his knee. “Hey babe? It’s past five. I gotta get ready for work in a minute.”

“Whoa, seriously? Already?” He checked for himself. “And you have work again tomorrow, right?”

I nodded. “Afraid so.”

He sighed, showing he felt about the same way I did about it. “You want a ride there?”

I grinned at that. “Hell yeah. You’re not going to get in trouble for using your wings for non-villainous activity, are you?”

“With the Guild?” Gary shook his head, but I could tell he was slightly worried about what The Monarch would have to say when he got home.

“You work hard,” I reminded him. “And you’re crazy loyal. _And_ you made sure all the work still got done today. He has no right to give you shit for taking a day off.”

“I know.” He rolled his shoulders back. “How long do you need to get ready?”

“Twenty minutes or so. How long does it take to fly there?”

He made a face. “Sorry, I wasn’t timing it last night!”

I had to laugh. “It felt like an eternity, but I’m pretty sure that was just me freaking out.”

“It was kind of cute, seeing you actually scared of something.”

“I wasn’t _scared_ ,” I protested indignantly. “I was…nervous.”

He reached over and fucking booped my nose. Pressed his finger right into the tip of my nose and went “Boop.” My eyes widened in surprise. “You were scared,” he told me with the cutest grin in the world.

“You did _not_ just boop me.” I raised an eyebrow austerely—or at least tried to.

“Uh, you’re in denial, because I clearly just did.”

“Who gave you the right to _boop_ me?” I demanded. I was Jane Impossible, I designed robots that peeled off your epidermis and explosives that made you piss your pants, I fucked hard and kicked ass. I did not get _booped_.

“You did,” he told me, fairly confident. “Last night.”

“I don’t recall this.” Darn it, a smile was already trying to break through my façade.

“Really?” He twisted quickly, hands darting to my sides. I thought he was going to pull me in close for a kiss, so my guard wasn’t up. It should have been. He _tickled_ me.

I shrieked and squirmed, giggling. “Cut it out! Gary! I will fucking kill you!” Laughing, he let up. “Fucker,” I muttered affectionately.

The way he looked at me in that moment made me feel still and quiet inside. I stared back at him, admiring every little line and curve of his face. “You really love me,” I whispered, awed by how plainly he showed it.

“Yeah,” he said simply, but there was deep emotion in that one syllable.

“You shouldn’t,” I muttered, unable to drag my eyes away.

“I can’t help it,” he answered.

I knew exactly what he meant. “I love you, too,” I said, and kissed him.

I would absolutely have had more sex after that, but I had to get ready for work. By the time I was done, Gary was back in his butterfly getup, though he’d left the mask up so I could still see his eyes. “You sure you’re ready for another flight?”

“No.” I lifted my chin and took a deep breath, centering myself. “But I trust you.”

As soon as we hit the sidewalk outside my building, he wrapped his arms securely around my waist. I hung onto my purse and tried to relax. “Don’t go too fast,” I warned him. “I can’t afford to look all windswept when I get there.”

I was facing outward, so I couldn’t see his face, but I had a feeling he was laughing at me. His wings started up, and my feet left the ground. I kept my eyes closed through the entire ride, but he chatted away happily, taking my mind off the height with the rest of his story from earlier. The drunken henchman from Ünderland got his arm ripped out of the socket by a giant guard robot at the end. Kind of dark, given how silly the earlier parts had been. But my boyfriend had escaped without a scratch, which was the only thing I really cared about.

I felt our descent and opened my eyes just as we came up on the sidewalk outside Costume Party. Probably good that I had, because we came down a little hard this time and I needed to bend my legs to absorb the shock. Still, we were here safe. Gary let me go, and I fished my phone out of my purse to check the time. Ten minutes to spare, awesome. I turned back to him, stepping in close for one more kiss. “When will I see you again?”

“Soon,” he promised.

That was vague, but I knew how unpredictable his work schedule was. Mine wasn’t much better. I suddenly wished that I only had one job. “It better be.” I tipped my head up for a kiss, and he delivered. “Alright, I’ve got to go change.”

He nodded but didn’t start up his wings. I was going to have to be the one to tear myself away. Damn it. I really didn’t want this date to end. Reluctantly, I turned and headed toward the staff entrance.

Jasmine and Tony came in while I was changing. I couldn’t stand Jasmine, but I was in such a good mood today that I smiled at them both. Tony headed back to Louis’ office, but Jasmine went to her locker and stripped down completely before locating the pieces of her genie costume. “You dating a superhero now?” she asked sweetly, turning to give me a full frontal as she pulled on her bottoms.

I hadn’t realized anyone else from work was out there when I arrived, which in retrospect was really stupid. I pulled on one of my heels. “He’s not a hero.”

“Oooh, a _villain_?” She sat down next to me, still topless, like we were best friends. “I always heard the villains make better money. Is that true?”

I didn’t know where she got her information from, because in my experience it was the good guys with unlimited funding. The Guild had a good health plan, but I didn’t think that was when she meant. “I wouldn’t know. I don’t care about money.”

Her smile was a little _too_ sweet. She stood back up so she could look down her nose at me while she did it. I pulled on my other shoe. “Oh honey, you _should_. You could use a square meal and some quality hair products.”

I yawned expansively. That was the best she had? I had more muscle tone and two cup sizes on her, and she went with too _skinny_? “Thanks for the advice.”

Jasmine sniffed. “Whatever. So is he really ugly under that mask, as well as fat? I’m surprised those wings could lift him.”

Very calmly, I envisioned myself murdering her. It helped. I smiled at her. “You are really off your game tonight. These are supposed to be insults?”

Her lip curled. “Alright, how’s this. Does he not _know_ he’s dating a whore, or does he just not care because you’re the best he can get?”

I pictured my nanobots burrowing into her skin, devouring her from the inside out as she screamed and writhed. It was enough to keep me calm. “For the last time,” I said, without the smile now, “it’s not _my_ fault that your boyfriend felt me up while I was _working_.”

“You _let_ him!”

I rolled my eyes, anger fading. This was pathetic. “I should have screamed and gotten him kicked out?” He’d actually been cute, and we’d been flirting, and I’d had no idea of who he was, and it had been over a year ago. Not my fucking problem. She silently fumed at me. I went over to the mirror and focused on adding my whiskers rather than paying attention to her petty ass.

“Whatever,” she snapped again, which just showed that she had no coherent response to my statement. “I hope he drops you next time.”

I didn’t respond at all that time, which pissed her off even more. I finished my make-up and walked out of the back room, determined to leave behind her sad attempts at wrecking my good mood. And for the most part, I succeeded. The club was hopping again tonight, and I didn’t have a lot of time to get lost in my own head. I was still flying high emotionally, Gary was amazing, and I felt like _I_ was amazing. The improved attitude must have come through in my work, because the tips I got that night were better than usual. That made me even happier. I couldn’t wait to see him again.

It was slightly disappointing when I got off work and had to catch the train home like usual, but I’d just spent the day with him and he undoubtedly had his hands full with work for now. I texted him on the ride home anyway, my exhaustion only catching up to me when I got home. I had a drink, brushed my teeth, and fell into a bed that still smelled like my boyfriend. If I had any dreams, I didn’t remember them the next morning.

I was still tired when my alarm went off, but I was also eager to get back into the lab and see what I’d missed yesterday. Though I had a special project I planned to work on. Billy and Pete were in evidence when I got in, but Rusty was nowhere to be seen. Perfect. I flashed both my coworkers a brilliant smile and asked them how they were doing.

“Somebody had a nice vacation,” Pete remarked, turning away from his computer screen for a few seconds.

Bill was feeding the lab mice—which was good, because I doubted anyone else would remember to do it. “I thought you were sick yesterday,” he called in my direction as I went to check out the samples I’d left in the fridge. “You don’t look sick to me.”

“I wasn’t sick,” I admitted freely, checking to make sure the cultures were developing properly.

“Damn,” Billy muttered.

Pete laughed. “Told you! You owe me ten bucks.”

“I’ll pay it,” I said in a fit of generosity, digging a ten out of my purse. “I got some nice tips last night.”

“Man,” Billy remarked, awed. “What crawled up your butt and…” Clearly he’d been going to say _died_ , but it didn’t work. “Took over?”

I winked at him, handed Pete the money, and walked on clouds over to the supply room. I came back with some copper tubing along with a few bits and pieces that had the right look. I proceeded to do some measurements at my table before grabbing a pair of goggles and heading to the machinery. I hummed happily to myself as I sliced and welded the metals into something that could house the acrylic cylinders I’d made.

A hand tapped me on the shoulder as I was adding some detail to the bottom. “Hold on,” I said without turning. “This has to be perfect.”

“Uh, Jane?” Rusty’s voice. I wondered what he was doing down here so early. Probably looking for a status update on one of the projects.

“Hold on,” I repeated calmly.

“What are you doing?” he asked anyway.

I kept my attention firmly on my work. “Making a lightsaber.”

“I’ve already done that,” he said dismissively. “Nobody—”

“You did it wrong,” I cut him off. “And I don’t care if nobody wants to buy it. This is just for fun.”

“I’m not paying you to have fun,” he whined.

I continued with my laser etching. “You haven’t paid me at all so far,” I pointed out.

“You’re a _chemist_ ,” he protested one last time. I could already tell from his tone of voice that he wasn’t going to fight me on this, though.

“You know genius can’t be forced into a box like that.” I smiled to myself, feeling chipper at this silly little victory. I was imagining Gary trying the finished product out for the first time. I should make a red one for myself. It’d be fun to have a duel. I finished etching in the pattern and turned. “Speaking of which, how’s Project Alice?”

“It’s going great, no thanks to you.”

“Yeah?” I was interested enough to set my current project aside for a minute. “You didn’t _finish_ it yesterday, did you?”

“As a matter of fact, I did!” He paused, giving me a chance to feel ganked that I’d missed out on it, before adding “But it killed the mouse.”

“Ah.” I smiled again. “So you’ve come to beg me for help?”

Rusty snorted. “Hardly. I thought you might want the chance to do some _real_ science, that’s all.”

I nodded. It was too tempting, to help him isolate the problem. “Just let me finish up here. Poison, or explosion?”

“What’s that? Oh, the mouse. Poison, I suppose. It started throwing up everywhere.”

Charming. “Are you sure it didn’t just get into one of your cocktails?” I asked, suppressing a smirk.

“Oh, ha ha.” He folded his arms and studied me. I reached for one of the acrylic pieces. “ _You’re_ in a good mood today.”

“I am,” I agreed readily. “Thanks for the flexible schedule. I really needed that time off.”

“Clearly.” He continued to watch me work. Fine, let him. I hummed the Imperial March under my breath. “You got a good night’s sleep, then?”

I beamed at him and returned to my work.

Eventually, he got bored of trying to distract me and wandered off to his own work. I finished fitting all of the pieces together, forgetting that I’d said I’d be right over. Poison, though. That’d be a much easier fix than an explosion. It suggested that the dynamics of size weren’t the problem, just that we needed to isolate which chemical was causing the reaction. I hadn’t put any known poisons into it, but maybe we’d overlooked a reaction… I puzzled it out while trimming the acrylic edges to make them slide smoothly.

Finally I set the lightsaber aside and went over to see what the boys were up to. Rusty was leaning over a notebook, furiously jotting things down. Billy was performing an autopsy on the unfortunate mouse from yesterday. Pete seemed to be playing a game on one of his computers while Rusty was occupied. I didn’t point it out. The rest of the day flew by as we started up the distillation process on a slightly modified solution. I was dismayed when Pete pointed out it was five o’clock, collecting my things and taking off at a run. As usual, I barely had time to wash off the chemical odor and down some water and vitamins before leaving for the club. I was dying to check my phone, but there wasn’t any time until I sat down on the train.

Four messages since last night. _Holy crap, they found the dry-cleaning ticket,_ followed by _This is so crazy, I’ll tell you later,_ followed by _Had to explain about the eagles to M,_ followed by _Miss you, how was your day?_ I wondered what was crazy, and whether The Eagles meant the band, the actual bird, or the giant overlooked plot point in Lord of the Rings. The last text was the one that interested me the most, though.

 _I miss you toluene,_ I sent before realizing predictive text had screwed me again. _Toluene,_ I tried again, and glared at the tiny screen. _For fuck’s sake, TOO! I never use the word TOO, autocorrect?_ That was really sad, that my phone was more familiar with chemicals than expressions of affection. I wasn’t exactly _surprised_ , but it was still sad.

I waited for him to respond asking what toluene was, but nothing came. He must be busy right now. I tried not to feel anything negative about that but wound up imagining one of my flame explosives consuming The Monarch—which I knew Gary wouldn’t appreciate. Oh well, I wasn’t going to actually _do_ it. After a minute, I texted again. He’d asked a question, after all. And once I got to work, I wouldn’t be able to check my phone for the rest of the night. _Day was good. I’m almost done with your lightsaber and worked with dangerous chemicals. Bed smells like you. Wish I didn’t have work._

I didn’t, technically, I guess. I could have gone crawling home to Dad, worked in his lab when I felt like it, and skipped off to spend time with Gary whenever he was free. Or I could have accepted Rusty’s offer of room and board at VenTech, so I could quit Costume Party and have my evenings free on a regular basis. The fact that I was even _considering_ those as options meant I had it bad.

Not that either was really practical. I didn’t know whether to be relieved or disappointed by that. What day of the week was it now? I had to be getting close to the weekend again, right? _Let me know if you can sneak out for even a few hours,_ I typed out. _You rank over sleep, you know._ I’d already hit send when I stared down at the phone in mild disbelief. Damn, bitch, you sound desperate.

Maybe I _was,_ a little. I needed him around. When he was with me, I could be the person he thought I was. It was like a drug. I needed another dose, or I was going to wind up slipping back into being regular heartless Jane.

It was tempting to text again, just to keep this butterfly feeling in my heart going, but what can you really say to a guy after telling him you’d rather see him than sleep after working two jobs? I shoved my phone back into my purse and got off the train at the next stop. No sign of that jealous bitch Jasmine tonight, good. Some other server I only knew on sight was getting changed at the other end of the locker room, but thankfully she didn’t make any attempts to talk to me. I quickly changed into my outfit and left the locker room just as my shift was supposed to start.

It was another typically exhausting night of bringing drinks and snacks to arrogant assholes and costumed creeps. My tips were only okay. Near the end of the shift I found myself looking around hopefully for some sign of a dork in yellow wings. I had no right to be as disappointed as I was when I didn’t see him.

I checked my phone again on the ride home. Only one message. _Extra training with Seven and tons of procurement crap. I’m totally beat but M wants to hang. How about tomorrow?_ He’d ended it with a heart. I bit my lip, staring at that heart and telling myself not to be stupid. But damn it, I didn’t _want_ to go back and sleep in my crappy bed alone again. I touched my fingertip to the little heart image, wishing fiercely for something more. I wanted him with me all the time, damn it! Fuck, why did this have to be so hard? _I miss you too much,_ I responded at last. _Whenever you’re free, I’m there._

I was really hoping he’d text back, but either The Monarch was being extra demanding or he’d fallen asleep. Feeling depressed, I got home and lay in my bed for a while thinking about all the things wrong with my life before falling asleep.

I woke up in a predictably bad mood. Had it been just yesterday I’d been so weirdly sunny and upbeat? Maybe Gary really _was_ a drug. Some kind of hallucination side effect from lack of sleep and nutrition. I knew he wasn’t, but it seemed impossible that one person could have that much impact on my attitude. When I was with him, everything was great. In the _aftermath_ of being with him, everything was great.

But when I was alone with my own mind? That was the trouble started.

What the hell was I thinking? I couldn’t be in _love_. Love was bad chemicals. Love was dangerous. Love wasn’t for someone like me. This was going to screw up _everything_. What about those objections I’d had the other night, about The Monarch using our relationship to screw with VenTech and subsequently my job? This wasn’t something that could _last_. This was like a bad Shakespeare play, two feuding families. That had wound up with both of them dead, and I did not need another dead boyfriend, no way no how. I wasn’t Juliet material. This wasn’t even a disaster waiting to happen anymore, it was a disaster I’d jumped into with both feet. Jane Impossible did not get a happy ending, who had I thought I was kidding?

But I really did love him.

Well, you’d better _stop_ loving him before you wreck everything.

Love doesn’t work like that, it’s not a switch you can turn on and off.

Spoken like a lovesick kid.

You’re just scared!

Damn right I’m scared, and you should be too. This isn’t some fun flight in the moonlight, this ends with you crashing into the ground and pulverizing yourself.

I was giving myself a headache.

When I got to the lab, I didn’t finish the lightsaber. I worked on explosives while Project Alice brewed, and when it was finished I helped Rusty potentially poison some lab mice. They didn’t immediately start vomiting or dying, which was a good sign, but they also didn’t noticeably grow or shrink. I took measurements, just to make sure. I used a lunch break to check my phone. I had a series of messages from Gary—nothing substantial, but enough to cheer me up for a little bit. I responded and he actually texted back. It had been Lord of the Ring eagles. I should have known. He was super sorry he’d fallen asleep without texting more last night. Was I still free tonight after the club?

I brightened up for a while after that. Until my brain decided to chime back in and remind me that I was going deeper down the rabbit hole and going to wind up getting hurt. Probably getting _both_ of us hurt. I was mostly able to ignore that voice now, but I couldn’t get it to shut up completely.

I measured one of the mice again. I stared at the scale, rechecking my numbers, before bellowing “Guys! Holy shit!” Rusty was there in seconds. Billy made it over not long after, eventually followed by Pete (who didn’t really have a horse in this race but was curious anyway). I handed Rusty my measurement notes and pointed wordlessly at the scale.

“I’ll be damned,” Rusty murmured. The mouse made a break for it, and I caught it and stuck it back on the scale—which ticked down another decimal point.

“No. Way.” Billy’s eyes were alight. “It’s working!”

The scale ticked down again. The mouse wasn’t noticeably smaller than when I’d gotten it out of the cage, but it was definitely smaller than it had been this morning. I raised my eyebrows at them and grinned. “We need it to work _faster_ , clearly, but this is a—”

Rusty grabbed me and kissed me. I should have seen that coming, but I’d been too focused on the mouse to think about how anyone else might process their excitement. He spun me around into a dip, and my mouth opened automatically to kiss him back. I didn’t _mean_ to, I didn’t even think about it—I was just excited, and he was elated, and it happened.

I didn’t even think about when he let me go, because we’d fucking _done_ it! That mouse was shrinking because it drank something _we_ made, and it still seemed totally healthy, this was a huge breakthrough, I could barely contain my delight. I grinned at everybody and looked back at the mouse.

It wasn’t there.

“Shit!” Billy exclaimed, pointing to the white thing streaking across the floor. It went under a table. Pete stood there looking entertained as the rest of us dropped to our knees.

“I don’t get it,” I heard him say as I was crawling around on my hands and knees, face practically pressed to the floor. “Can’t you just give the same thing to another mouse? You’ve got plenty of the stuff.”

I didn’t bother arguing with him, focusing instead on search for the stupid furry thing. Usually I _liked_ how enormous the lab was. Right now, it made the odds of finding our specimen practically impossible.

“Well first,” said Rusty—who unlike me, was perfectly willing to whine _while_ searching— “It’s a _mouse_ , White. It’ll _chew_ things. One nibble and half the building’s without power.”

“Yeah, but if it keeps shrinking, it’s teeth won’t be big enough to make a dent.”

“And if it keeps shrinking,” Billy pointed out as I pursued what I thought was a flash of movement heading left, “we’ll never find it and know how small it gets. It could wind up infinitesimal!”

“And we’d have to wait _hours_ for the next mouse to start showing the same signs of shrinking,” Rusty added irritably.

“But you could do it,” Pete observed.

“Yes, yes, but it’ll be so much better to catch _this_ one.”

“Okay, sure, well good luck with that.”

I sighed and got to my feet. Pete was right, this was an exercise in futility. “You guys keep looking. I’ll get started on dosing another mouse as a back-up plan.”

 _That_ was when I realized I’d just let someone who wasn’t my boyfriend kiss me. Crap. Crapcrapcrap. I hadn’t even thought about it! I’d been too caught up in the moment of victory. And I wasn’t used to being somebody’s girlfriend, to this concept that maybe I _shouldn’t_ just do whatever the hell felt good in the moment. The sense of someone caring what I…no, that wasn’t quite it. The sense of _me_ caring that someone else would care. I had another internal war with myself as I weighed a fresh lab mouse, made a note, and administered the solution to it. Good thing I was seeing Gary tonight. I needed something positive to focus on. When I was with him, my worries faded away. I wanted to keep that going.


	9. Chapter 9

There were two more sightings of the mouse while Rusty and Billy continued their search, but no one was fast enough to catch the damn thing. As disappointed as I was by the loss, I felt slightly superior for deciding to start over instead of spending an hour crawling around on my hands and knees. At least this way, by the time evening rolled around, Subject #2 was starting to shrink. I wished, again, that I didn’t have to work at the club tonight. I would have liked to stay and monitor the test subject to see how much further it would shrink. But I had to make some money.

And see my boyfriend. Now that it was getting closer, I got some of that bounce back in my step. I should probably tell him about the kiss, right? And apologize. He’d understand how it was, that it didn’t mean anything. He wasn’t really the jealous type. I was nervous about bringing it up anyway, because I’d screwed up—but it was just a _little_ screw up, and once I told him we’d be able to spend the whole night together again. I fantasized about how his arms felt around me as I got ready for the club. And how his dick felt in me. And that stupid tattoo on his back. Just thinking about it made me smile to myself. What a dork. I loved it. I loved him. Fucking dork.

I gave Jasmine a sunny smile on my way into the locker room. She scowled at me, which I pretended not to notice as I changed into my costume. Shaundra came in as I was finishing up my make-up, and I waved without moving my face. “Hey bitch,” she greeted me amiably, pulling out her own outfit. “How’s it going?”

I gave her a thumbs up, finishing off my cat whiskers before answering. “How about you?”

“Excellent, cause I’m calling in that favor you owe me.”

Oh no. “Already?”

“I need twenty bucks.”

My shoulders relaxed again. I’d been expecting her to ask me to work late tonight, which would have screwed up my plans with Gary. “Do I look like I have twenty bucks on me?” I asked, relieved.

She looked me up and down skeptically. “Not yet. But you will by the end of the night, and I need it.”

I put my hands on my hips. “Do I get to ask what for?”

“Am I all up in _your_ business when you beg me to cover for you cause you’re running late?”

Fair point. I rolled my eyes. “Fine. Catch me before you leave and I’ll take it out of my tips.”

“Damn straight you will.” She grinned at me. “And between you and me, whoever this guy is you’re seeing? Don’t screw it up.”

“How’d you know I was—” I started to ask, but she didn’t give me a chance to finish.

“It’s _obvious_ ,” she informed me, bumping me with her hip so I’d move over and give her the mirror. “Never _seen_ you so nice. Either it’s love, or the pod people took you and left us a replacement.”

I giggled. “The pod people replaced humans with emotionless replicas. If I’m acting like I’m in love, that’s hardly emotionless.”

Shaundra shook her head as though she felt sorry for me, but she was smiling. “Okay, nerd, this is what I’m talking about! This guy must be something special.”

“He is,” I smiled.

“Aw look at that, you’ve even got the dreamy eyes.” She turned her attention back to her reflection. “Go make that face at some customers and you’ll have my twenty bucks before you know it.”

I wasn’t going to make “dreamy eyes” at any customers, but I still started my shift with a hint of that dopey smile on my face. I was in love. And in a few hours I’d be with him again, and we could spend hours talking about music and comics and sci-fi…I could _tell_ him how vulnerable I’d been feeling without him around, how my fears had threatened to take over. What a bizarre thought. Instead of freaking out on my own and convincing myself this was wrong and dangerous, I could _talk_ to him. And let him convince me it was safe and right. It _felt_ right when I was with him.

Jasmine brushed past me on her way to deliver a round of drinks. “Something special, my ass,” she snorted.

I turned and walked with her, which clearly irritated her. “I’d forgotten you were even there for that conversation,” I made a point of telling her. I should have let it roll off me, alright, but I was sick of her petty shit and wanted her to know how totally forgettable she was.

She stopped walking and gave me a smile sharp enough to shave with. “If he’s that great, what’s he doing with a skank like you?”

I should have let that one roll off me, too, damn it. Instead, I snapped “Eat a sack of dicks” and spun on my heel.

“Like there’s any you haven’t already touched?” she called after me sweetly.

I set my teeth and headed for my first table of the night, greeting them with a nervous smile and flustered introduction that weren’t going to get me anything but pity tips. I should _not_ be letting Jasmine get to me! It was ridiculous that she had.

Except…I hadn’t seen Gary in a few days, and the only reason I wasn’t already going nuts was because I knew I’d get to see him later tonight. I hadn’t seen him since bearing my soul to him, actually. No wonder I felt vulnerable. Not to mention guilty, for kissing Rusty earlier. Jasmine had just tapped into all the anxiety that was already running high inside me. And part of me believed she was _right_. Who was I kidding, I didn’t belong in a real relationship with a nice guy. It was only a matter of time until I blew it. The longer I kept this up, the more it was going to hurt when it ended.

I hung onto the end of my shift like a life raft. Every time my brain started to spiral into fear and pessimism, I reminded myself that in just a few hours he’d be here to replace those feelings with the euphoria of love. He’d turn up and I’d forget to worry. I could just relax and _be_.

It got to be almost a mantra in my head as the night went on. _I can’t do this, it’s going to end in disaster, what was I thinking, I can’t do this, quit panicking, just hang in there, when he smiles at you again it’ll all be okay._ How much longer? Two more hours. _I can’t do this, it’s going to end in disaster, what was I thinking, stop it, you’re being a spaz, just wait till he gets here, you’ll see._ An hour and a half. _I can’t do this, I can’t do this, I can’t do this, love sucks, I can’t handle all this emotion, this is going to destroy me, I have to bail, no you don’t, it’s all in your head, wait and see._ Fifty-five minutes. _I can’t do this, it’s going to end in disaster, I’m such a mess, why does he even like me, I should bail, no you shouldn’t, hang in there, he’s coming._

I honestly never realized how much of a train wreck I was until Gary came along. You wouldn’t think that’d be a good thing, would you? Then again, maybe I was only a wreck now because I had someone to care about. ( _Someone to care about? You’re going to hurt him, you’re going to hurt yourself, if you care then you really have to bail, this is dangerous, no it isn’t, it’s beautiful, just wait._ ) Or maybe now I was healthy enough to see how much of a wreck I’d always been. Whatever. It didn’t matter. Forty minutes. I could do this. He’d probably turn up soon, like he had the other night. Right?

I was frantic by the time I brought the bill to my last customers of the night and tagged in Monique for the ones who hadn’t ordered yet. I practically ran to the locker room in my stilettos, kicking them off as I dug through my purse for my phone. Was he waiting outside this time? Had something happened? Those wings better not have malfunctioned. If he’d crashed—on his way to see me—the thought made it hard to breathe.

There were two new messages waiting for me. _Sorry, can’t make it tonight after all. Dr Mrs sprung some fancy party on us, she and M are insisting I have to come._ And then the second— _I have to wear a TUX. Why couldn’t I just wear the butterfly uniform? This is way worse! Hope your night’s going better than mine._

I sat down on the bench in front of the mirror and looked down at the words. I stared at them so long they lost their meaning, and then they got blurry. Why would they—oh. I dashed the tears angrily from my eyes and dabbed at my make-up with a tissue. I was _not_ got to let my mascara run, I was not going to _cry_ over some _man_!

More tears welled up to take their place. Sonofabitch! He hadn’t even broken up with me! He got busy! This was stupid! Jane, you dumb bitch, you’re being _stupid_!

But it was the last straw. I was overworked and exhausted. I was _terrified_ of attempting a real relationship because of all the things that could go wrong. And now that I knew how much of a mess I really was, I was finding it pretty hard to believe that I’d be able to make it work. Maybe I shouldn’t be vulnerable. Maybe I shouldn’t have feelings. I shouldn’t _care_ about people, that was the real problem! I blew my nose and glared furiously at my reflection. Mom left me with Dad. Dad just wanted to control me. Trent stole my heart and then fucking _died_. I wasn’t meant to have connections with people.

I should have accepted Rusty’s offer. That was way more up my alley. Room and board in a plush penthouse, security, access to all the tools and resources my twisted scientific mind could dream up, occasionally decent sex. Was that really such a bad life? I _got_ Rusty. We were alike in some ways. Even the ways we were broken kind of matched up. No mom, emotionally distant dad, knack for science, not many scruples. I belonged with someone like that. Not someone who made me feel goofy and happy and vulnerable. What an uncomfortable way to live, feeling vulnerable. If this was what it got me, I’d had enough!

I blew my nose again. That was probably the real Jane, anyhow. The one who Rusty had hired, the one Jasmine had every reason to hate, the one who hadn’t talked to the only family she had in over a decade. The one who threatened to make people vomit up their colons.

That thought made me cry even harder.

Eventually I got myself under something like control. I went into the bathroom and splashed some water on my face. I blew my nose again and changed back into my regular clothes. It was a good thing he’d cancelled, really. That meant I didn’t have to go any further down this painful road. I was going to take all that vulnerability and leave it here in the trash at work with those half-dozen used tissues. I couldn’t be in love. I just couldn’t. I didn’t deserve it, and I didn’t want it.

I got on the train without really paying attention. But it wasn’t totally an accident that I got off near VenTech, either. I wandered down the street, still unpleasantly caught up in my own thoughts. I wound up at the main doors. I went through them. “You know if anyone’s still in the lab?” I asked the guy manning the front desk.

“Nope, sorry,” he said without even opening his eyes.

“Well, I’m going to go check,” I informed him, heading for the elevators.

He cracked an eye open, probably confirming it was me. “The doc’s upstairs for the night,” he told me.

I bristled. “Why do you assume I’m looking for him? I’m allowed in the lab by myself.”

The security guard shrugged as if he could care less. “Cause he was down there till about ten minutes ago?”

I’m sure in _his_ mind, that answered the question. And it did bring me up short, I’ll give him that. If Rusty had been in the lab until very recently, he probably had new data on our experiment. And if he did, I wanted to hear about it. “Fine,” I said stiffly, “I’ll go see him first, then.”

He was waiting for me when the elevator doors opened. In pajamas. “Well hel- _lo_ , Jane,” he said, leaning against the wall in what I knew by now was his idea of a seductive pose. “Here a little late, aren’t we?”

“I came to check on the mouse,” I said lamely. Sure you did, Jane.

“Oh, the ex _per_ iment.” He continued putting emphasis on random syllables as he led me into his living room. “The _mouse_ is still in the lab—but I think you _know_ that. Sure, I’ll tell you all about it. Here—make yourself comfortable.” He waggled his eyebrows at me. “Unless you think you’d be more comfortable…somewhere else?”

Ordinarily I would have been entertained. This time I just sank into the sofa and closed my eyes. “Sure. Whatever. This is fine.”

“Is it, though?” I felt his fingers walk over my thigh and didn’t make a move to stop him. “You look…” He must have actually looked at me, because he stopped trying to sound cool and seductive. “You look terrible!”

I kept my eyes closed, so he didn’t see when I rolled them. “Thanks.”

“What _are_ you doing here so late?” Rusty demanded. “I assumed that after this afternoon, you wanted…” He actually thought better of what he’d been about to say, swallowing the words. “Never mind.”

“Honestly, Rusty?” I opened my eyes, looking at him bleakly from my reclined position in the sofa cushions. “I have no idea.”

“You don’t?” He blinked. “Are you alright?”

That got a sliver of a smile out of me. “Sweet of you to ask. Yeah, I’m great.” This was where I belonged. This was what I deserved. “Just tell me about the experiment.”

“Half an hour ago, it weighed in,” he informed me after only a moment’s awkward hesitation, “at point six seven grams.”

I sat straight up. “That thing was 20 grams when I dosed it! Is it still going?”

“If it was still going,” he said dryly, “I doubt we’d be able to _find_ it in the morning.”

I nodded. That was a fair point. “So it’s stopped?”

He hedged. “It’s slowed down.”

I leaned forward, elbows on my knees, thinking. “What did you put it in? We need something with adequate airflow to make sure it doesn’t die—I mean, if it asphyxiated, how would we do an autopsy to know if that was the real cause? But it’d have to be something without any significant air holes, because mice are great jumpers and if it keeps shrinking it could easily escape through them.” My brow creased. “I wonder what happened to the other one.” Worrying about shrinking mice was _so_ much better than worrying about romance.

“Hopefully getting eaten by a spider. No, don’t worry, this one is quite safe. Billy helped me with the jar.”

“The _jar_? Our only proof of a huge scientific breakthrough is in a jar with some holes punched in the lid?”

“Obviously not, it’s a breathable fabric.” His voice got clipped, the way it did whenever I doubted him. “And it really _has_ slowed down. You’re not the only one who can do science, you know! I _happen_ to be famous for my inventing skills. And this project was _my_ idea in the first place! Someone’s getting a little full of herself, hm? Honestly. A jar with holes punched in the lid!”

I sighed in relief, unphased by his injured tone. “Good. So…from twenty to point six, that’s a huge reduction.” I did some quick mental math. “If it worked the same way on an average human man…you’d wind up about the size of a small dog. Is that small enough for Alice to get through the door?”

“Well, my dad did better with Entman, but that was really more of an accident…still, I’d like to get it a bit smaller if I could…you know, out-do the shrink ray once and for all… Maybe we should try a higher dosage?”

I nodded decisively. “We’ll double it on the next mouse. And we need to come up with something better to hold these tiny mice. I can make something out of that acrylic.” I got to my feet. “I want to go check it out. Point six seven? I need to see.” Focusing this hard on the project was the only thing keeping me from freaking out right now.

“What, are you crazy? It’s two in the morning,” Rusty objected. “I was getting ready for bed, and so should you.”

He was right, I supposed. I’d been up for…what now, eighteen hours? And I was sure tired enough. Tired of running around my own head. But that was exactly why I had to keep going. Being alone with my own thoughts was terrifying. I shook my head. “I am at the same time too tired to even think about heading home, and totally convinced that I’ll be unable to sleep when I get there.”

“Ah-ha, so you need a drink!” He looked thrilled that he’d thought of this solution.

Accepting one drink created by Dr. T.S. Venture was more than enough for one lifetime. “Ugh,” I answered simply. “Just let me go to the lab.” Technically he wasn’t stopping me, but I was too depressed and weary to put up any kind of fight.

“You’re in no condition to be in my lab,” he told me primly. Right, like _his lab_ was such a sanctuary of science and order. Pete had spilled soda all over one of the tables. Billy piloted that giant transformer around last week as it leaked oil. I snorted and crossed my arms. “I’m going to have to insist you spend the night here,” he went on to inform me with barely concealed glee.

“Okay,” I said. This was where I belonged. I’d probably sleep better in a big plush bed with silk sheets that didn’t smell anything like Gary. This was the smart thing to do. I rubbed my face and pushed myself back up on my feet. I knew the way to the master bedroom by now. “Where’s Brock at?”

“Around.” Rusty flapped a hand vaguely. I was heading toward his bedroom, like he cared about anything else?

I stripped off my tank top and yoga pants as soon as I’d passed through the doorway, dropping onto the soft bed in just my underwear. I lay there, sprawled out and face-down, staring at the lines of the duvet. It was comfortable, just like I’d known it would be. It held no reminders of love, just as I’d expected. And just like I’d thought, I didn’t feel remotely sleepy.

“Jane?” A cool hand on my back. I turned my head and saw Rusty’s face. “Oh good, you’re still awake.”

I raised an eyebrow and rolled onto my back. “You thought I could pass out that quickly?” We’d been in here what, ninety seconds? He hadn’t even taken off his pajamas—oh wait, he probably slept in them. That was what normal people did, right? They had pajamas to sleep in. I hadn’t slept in pajamas since I was twelve. Ugh, why was I such a fucking _mess_?

I wondered what Gary usually slept in. And then I remembered I was trying not to think about that. In a desperate attempt to drive him out of my head, I grabbed the lapels of Rusty’s pajamas and pulled him into a kiss.

“I _knew_ that was what you were really after!” He actually stopped making out with me to congratulate himself. “It was that little taste this afternoon, wasn’t it. You remembered how—”

“Shut up,” I told him, straddling him as I unbuttoned his top. I couldn’t really tell if the adrenaline surging through me was arousal or self-disgust, but at this point it didn’t really matter.

His hands were cool and thin, bordering on delicate. They felt all wrong on my skin. Nothing like G—

I kissed him again, grinding against him with my hips until I got a response. “Someone’s excited,” he remarked, running his hands over my back and ass. “You needed a dose of R—”

Good grief, what did he think _shut up_ meant? “Condom?” I cut him off, wrapping my hand around his dick to shut him up.

“In the drawer,” he answered, twitching his head to indicate the bedside table. I flipped off of him to reach it, yanking the drawer open and grabbing one out. I ripped open the packaging, kicked off my panties, and rolled it onto him quick enough to set a world record. And then I was back on top of him, and he was inside me, and we were moving, and it wasn’t great but it was enough to drive everything else out of my head for a little while.

It didn’t last nearly long enough, at least to my mind. But I did feel calmer afterward. Clearer. I lay on my back and stared at the ceiling, really feeling the warm fabric against my skin and hearing the sounds of the city sneaking through the closed window. As Rusty sighed in satisfaction, I got up and walked to the window, staring down at the lights and traffic far below, safely separated from me by a pane of probably unbreakable glass. This was a safe place for someone like me. I wasn’t going to get hurt up here.

“Rusty?” I said after a minute, without turning from the window. “Can I ask? What happened to your mom?”

“What?” He hadn’t been expecting a personal question like that, I guess.

I tried to clarify. “You were always off on adventures with your dad. Did you wish you had a mom?”

He was silent, and eventually I turned around and went back to the bed. “Why would you bring up something like that?”

I shrugged, lying down next to him on my back rather than snuggling up close. “I grew up with just my dad, too,” I admitted. “And I feel like I missed out on something. She’s half of who I am, and all I have is a handful of memories from when I was little. Was she a scientist, too, or did that all come from my dad? Why didn’t she take me with her when she left? I just thought, I guess, you could relate.”

“Oh, so we’re acknowledging who you are now?”

“No point in denying it.” I resented him throwing that in my face when I was trying to say something meaningful, and almost stopped talking. But I guess I needed to get this off my chest, because the words came out anyway. “It’s down to the most _basic_ things, too! Like my hair!” I held out a glossy chunk, staring at it resentfully. “I got it from my mother, I know that from pictures, but Dad didn’t have the first clue what to do with hair like that, so he took me in to get it straightened. For as long as I can remember, I’ve been getting my hair straightened. And I keep doing it, because that’s all I know!”

“That’s not your natural hair?” he asked, completely missing the point.

“No one explained my own body to me till I went through puberty,” I went on, still bitter at that memory. “And even then, he outsourced it!” He’d called in a biologist friend who explained it in the most clinical terms imaginable. “I taught myself how to make protein shakes and vitamin supplements, but no one ever taught me how to make…” Anything, honestly. For a chemist, I was a terrible cook. What was something normal women knew how to bake? “…God-damned chocolate chip cookies! I’m just…” I sighed. “I feel like I missed out. I don’t even know how my mom died! Doesn’t it bug you?”

“Not knowing how your mom died? Not really.”

“Ha, ha,” I deadpanned. “I’m actually trying to share here!”

He turned onto his side, propping his head up and facing me. “Since when have you been into pillow talk? Usually you’re out the door already.” He wagged a finger warningly. “Don’t go falling in love with me, now!”

He was joking. Probably. No, he had to be joking. Wasn’t he? Either way, I wasn’t amused. “I was just trying to have a conversation,” I responded, hearing the sulk in my tone. That had been my mistake. Trying to talk about anything…intimate was a mistake. This wasn’t a relationship. This wasn’t love. This was just the place where I fit best.

“Yes, sure, alright. There were times when it would have been nice to have a mother instead of a robot. Someone who would actually hold me when I scraped me knee and bled all over my shoes.” An honest answer? I was strangely touched. Rusty didn’t let the moment of vulnerability last, though. A man after my own heart in that regard. “But Dad kept us so busy, I hardly knew what I was missing.”

“Oh.” That was interesting, but I couldn’t really relate to being dragged around on dangerous missions as a kid. That was at least _one_ favor Dad had done me, I guess. “Wanna have sex again?”

“Already?” I couldn’t tell whether he was flattered or scandalized—probably because he didn’t know, either. “I’m not a machine!”

“Are you sure?” I traced a finger slowly along his throat and down his chest. “Because I’m pretty sure I know how to turn you on.”

“Well, if you insist…” He didn’t make any more objections. Verbally, anyway. It did take a lot of work to physically get him going again. It wasn’t even a very good distraction this time. I came frustratingly close to getting off, but no matter what I did (or what he did) the damn orgasm just wouldn’t come. This was just…work.

One of us got there in the end, at least. That felt nastily ironic, that _he_ got to lay back with that relaxed look of satisfaction on his face, when _I_ was the one who had really needed it. My mind wouldn’t shut up, that was the problem. Even now, it wouldn’t shut up.

I was incredibly relieved when I got back from the bathroom to discover Rusty had already fallen asleep. I climbed into the other side of the bed, tugging the covers snug around me and trying to feel tired. You’d think, being right there where I belonged, it would have come easily. Instead I hugged myself and stared blankly at the closet door for what felt like an eternity.


	10. Chapter 10

I must have fallen asleep at some point, because I woke up abruptly to the sound of a staticky voice a few inches from my ear. I jolted, sitting up and raising my arms defensively before I realized where the sound was coming from. Rusty’s arm was extended into the middle of the mattress, and the voice was coming out of his watch. I blinked a few times and processed my surroundings. Bed. Naked. Rusty. Still asleep somehow. Light coming in the windows. Early morning. And the voice in the watch.

“Doc, you hear me? I said Gary’s here, you know, The Monarch’s guy? He’s insisting he see you right now. I told him you were sleeping, but—”

Well now I was _very_ awake. _Why_ , damn it? Why did it have to be him? Why now? And more importantly, why had I done this to him? To myself? Just knowing he was in the building made me want to see him so much it was like a physical pain. But not like this, fuck me, not like _this_.

I found my clothes as the security guard tried to warn Rusty that Gary was on his way up to the penthouse. I couldn’t tell if the guard had just decided to let him through, or if he’d actually bypassed security. It didn’t really matter. Rusty finally yawned and brought the watch up to his face, mumbling “What?” as I yanked my pants up. Okay, how did I get out of here? There must be a back door, right? No, of course there wasn’t. The staircase was in the same hallway as the elevator. Shit.

Well, this was a huge place. I could probably hide in another room for a few minutes. Brock would probably hold him up at the front door for a while, right? I pulled open the bedroom door, ignoring Rusty’s confused questions, and oriented myself. Ideally, I’d just slip into another of the bedrooms up here, but I didn’t know which ones were occupied and oh shit that was him, that was Gary crossing the foyer. He wasn’t even wearing his butterfly gear, which struck me as odd. Just a plain black t-shirt and jeans, and I wanted to see him _so much_.

I ducked back into the bedroom and retreated, hiding in the bathroom.

And listened. Rusty was still arguing with the guard through his watch when I heard the door open again. “Excuse you,” Rusty said irritably. “This is my _bedroom_. Whatever Malcom wants, he can either come harass me himself, or you can—”

“Where is she?” Gary cut him off, making me feel like I’d swallowed a giant ice cube.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Rusty said primly. “Do you have any idea what time it is? I need my beauty rest! I was up late working on a revolutionary new product, and—what are you doing? You can’t just—”

The bathroom door opened. Gary stared at me. I stared back, trying to think of something bitchy and composed to say. A lame “Hi” was all I could come up with.

“Dude,” he said, fitting so much heartbreak and disappointment into that one syllable. I grimaced. “I was _really_ hoping they’d made a mistake.”

“Excuse me!” Rusty was still sitting in his bed, but he sounded so indignant he might as well have been sitting in a throne. “Why are you harassing my girlfriend?”

“Cause she’s not _your_ girlfriend,” Gary responded heatedly. “She’s _my_ girlfriend! Which makes it pretty weird that she’s hanging out in your private bathroom at six a.m.”

“ _Your_ girlfriend?” Rusty actually laughed, and my stomach did another nasty somersault. “Listen, uh….Gary, is it? I don’t know how things work with my degenerate half-brother and his strangely devoted beautiful wife, but in _my_ experience women don’t—”

“Shut up, Rusty,” I said flatly, feeling sick.

“This is _my room_!” Rusty exclaimed. “You wake me up and barge in here, and now neither of you is going to let me finish one se—”

“I’m not your damn girlfriend!” I snapped, barely looking at him. “I _never_ said I was your girlfriend! I thought I made it pretty clear I’m _not_!”

“Oh?” Rusty asked coolly. “Then why did you turn up in the middle of the night looking for a couple doses of yours truly?”

“Because I’m a screw-up, why do you think,” I declared, not really caring if it hurt his feelings. I put my attention firmly back on Gary. “Can we go talk someplace else?”

“ _Yes,_ ” he answered emphatically.

I accompanied him back toward the bedroom door.

“Jane, I’m warning you,” said Rusty sternly from his bed, “If you leave with him, you are walking away from all of _this_!” He gestured grandly to himself. “I won’t take you back this time!”

I hesitated, because I wasn’t positive that he was just talking about taking me back into his bed. That, I couldn’t have cared less about. But did he mean my job, too? I stopped walking, and Gary turned back to see why I wasn’t right behind him anymore. The look on his face was like a kick in the gut for me. I swallowed hard, and made my feet start moving again. Damn the consequences, I couldn’t let him fucking look at me like that. I couldn’t.

We walked in silence down the hallway and back to the foyer. We got into the elevator. And then, after its doors had closed and we’d started to descend, Gary hit a button. We stopped moving. The doors stayed closed.

“Okay,” he said, leaning into the nearest wall and clearly trying to stay calm. He took a deep breath.

I took advantage of his silence to ask a question that had been bugging me since the second I saw him. “What are you _doing_ here?” I asked. It came out louder than I’d intended.

“What am _I_ doing here?” he retorted, straightening up and towering over me. “What are _you_ doing here?”

“I work here!”

“You work in his bedroom?” Gary demanded, gesturing up toward Rusty’s room.

“No, but at least I belong in the damn building!” I tried rephrasing. “How’d you know I was here?”

“I got back from the party super late, I’m changing out of the tux and ready to crash, Three runs up the stairs and pounds on my door. Hey, he says, you’ll never guess what we got to watch tonight. Venture had his girlfriend up there again, and they were seriously getting down. And she is crazy hot, you gotta see. His girlfriend, I asked? Yeah, the hot one, the one we kidnapped, remember?” He glared at me, hurt and angry. “What the hell!”

I hated that I’d hurt him like that. So instead of apologizing, I turned it around and yelled at him. “You’ve been _spying_ on me?”

“The _Monarch_ has been spying on Dr. _Venture_!” he corrected me.

“You’ve been having your goons watch me at work, and not telling me about it! How’s that any different?”

“They’re not goons, and I just _did_ tell you!”

“That’s….” I had to search for a word that covered this kind of offense. “It’s creepy! It’s a violation of trust!”

“Are you kidding me?” He stared in disbelief. “You just slept with Dr. Venture two days after you told me you loved me, and you’re saying _I_ violated _your_ trust?”

“I—” I didn’t have an answer to that, and my righteous anger threatened to give out and leave me with just shame. I could feel the stupid tears rising in my throat and at the corners of my eyes already. I balled my hands into fists. “Yes! Because I need to be a bitch right now! If I’m not pissed off I’m going to start crying and begging you to forgive me and I can’t _do_ that, Gary! I need you to _hate_ me!”

“I don’t hate you,” he said, his suddenly quiet voice at odds with my little temper tantrum. “I just don’t get why you did it.”

“Because I fuck stuff up, that’s why!” I spat back, turning the fury toward myself now that he’d stopped shouting back. “How have you not yet figured out that I’m a giant walking pile of fuck-up? I did it because things _were_ good, and so I got _scared_. I like you too much. I don’t know how to do anything _besides_ let down the people I care about!”

“You think you’ve got a monopoly on fucking up?” he asked sharply. “Do you have any idea how many times _I’ve_ screwed up? On, like, a major level, too! restarted SPHINX because I thought it’d be cool to give reformed villains a chance at fighting evil instead. What did I get? All the old SPHINX guys signed up and pulled it out from under me. To do evil!” I shut up and listened to his unexpected outburst.

“Another time,” he went on, looking disgusted, “I tried to _save_ a bunch of guys. The Monarch wanted them out of the way. I locked them all up in a basement instead of killing them like I was supposed to, sent them three square meals a day. Know what happened? They fucking _ate_ each other! Another time all I did was oversleep on the wrong day, and I almost got The Monarch _killed_ because of it. You don’t even wanna know. I let people down _all_ the _time_ , Janey. I let _myself_ down all the time. So I know about being a fuck-up.”

He _did_ understand. I attempted a weak, apologetic smile. And then he dropped the bomb on me. “And you don’t get to use it as an excuse! You don’t just get to go well, I fucked that one up, time to lay down and surrender. Not when people out there are still counting on you.”

“You sound like a hero, Gary.” I ran a hand over my hair, feeling very tired.

“Why, just because I’m saying a few screw-ups doesn’t give you the excuse to keep on being shitty? If that’s all it takes to be a hero, then I guess maybe I am one.” His tone got gentler, and he put a hand on mine. “I get scary. I get screwing up so much that when something _good_ happens you freeze up and wait for the other shoe to drop. But you don’t have to—you don’t _get_ to—go looking for ways to screw it up and then go ‘ooh, it’s not my fault, I’m a fuck-up!’ You still have choices!”

“You’re not making me feel any better,” I told him sulkily.

He snorted in disbelief. “Oh is that my job right now? Sorry, I didn’t realize.”

I put my arms over my face. “No, no, of course you’re not. You’re supposed to be pissed! You’re supposed to, I don’t know, dump me, or hit me, or at least call me a no-good whore or something. That’s what I deserve. You’re right. I made shit choices. I _made_ those choices, because I’m a bitch. I get it. And now I’m sitting here feeling sorry for myself for making shit decisions, when you’re the one who gets hurt by them.”

“You got hurt by them, too,” he pointed out. “Don’t you think you deserve to be happy? You act like you’re this crazy badass workaholic nympho with no heart, but you’re not. You’re sexy and smart and intimidating and yeah okay, a little crazy. But you _do_ have a heart. As far as I can tell, you won’t get close to anybody because you’re afraid you might hurt them.”

“No!” Sonofabitch, there went the tears again, constricting my throat and trickling down my cheeks. He was too nice! He was always too nice! “I don’t let anyone get close to me because I think _they_ might hurt _me_.”

I’d thought I hated the way he looked at me before, but the way he looked at me right now was way worse, because what I saw in his face was _pity._ “How’s that working out for you?”

“Why couldn’t you just let me go?” I half-snarled, half-pleaded. “Why’d you have to turn up here? This is where I belong, don’t you get it? That person I am when I’m with you? I can’t be her! It’s too hard!”

“You _are_ her,” he told me stubbornly. “And I don’t think you’re trying to keep yourself from getting hurt. I think you’re trying _to_ get hurt. You said you started acting out to punish your dad? I don’t think so. I think you’re doing it to punish yourself.”

“You think I fucked Rusty to punish myself?” Well yeah, that did kind of tally, actually. “Why would I want to punish myself?”

“Um, hello? Your first love died trying to save you, and no one thought to sit you down afterward and tell you what you needed to hear.”

“What’s that?” I asked thickly.

“That it wasn’t your fault,” he said simply.

“You don’t know that! It _was_ my fault! And I don’t want it to happen to _you_ , because if you died for me too, I don’t know how I’d come back from that. So get out of here and leave me with Rusty already.” Rusty would never even _think_ about sacrificing himself for me.

“No,” Gary said, crossing his arms over his broad chest. “Why do you think it was your fault?”

“Because it _was_ , okay?” I hated being stuck in this elevator with him and my feelings. I felt like a trapped animal. I didn’t want to talk about this. I pulled in a deep breath that sounded too much like a sob. Fine, I’d tell him. Maybe after that he’d realize how terrible I was. “It was his birthday,” I said, dredging the words out of somewhere deep. Tears came with them, damn it. “It was his fucking _birthday_. And I wanted to do something special for him. As a surprise. I thought I was so smart. Making sneaky phone calls. Ordering stuff.” I’d gotten him a dvd set, and a piece of lingerie for myself, and a fancy cake. Or at least I thought I’d gotten a cake.

“It never occurred to me people might have a wire on our phone. Because I was young and stupid.” I took another deep breath and stared determinedly at a spot on the elevator wall. “Someone arrived with a delivery. I tore ass down there to get it first. I thought it had to be the cake. I wasn’t supposed to answer the door alone. That was what employees were for. But I wanted it to be a surprise.” I stared at the wall some more. “Anyway, you can see where this goes, right? I was stupid and arrogant, and Trent paid the price for it.”

There was a long silence. When I couldn’t take it anymore, I turned my eyes from the wall to Gary. There was that fucking pity in his eyes again. I hated it. “Well?” I snapped, lashing out verbally. “There! Happy? When I try to be nice, I get dumb, and I get people killed. I can’t be that girl. Fuck off!”

“That’s it?” Gary asked, and I wanted to slap him.

“That’s not _enough_?”

He sighed. “Seriously, no one has _ever_ told you this wasn’t your fault? Not even your therapists?”

I swallowed hard. “I didn’t tell them.”

He looked like he was about to say something, then shook his head. “Yeah, they were pretty terrible.”

He stepped into my personal space. I would have stepped back, but there was nowhere to go. “Go _away_!”

He didn’t touch me, but he didn’t back off, either. “Listen. You were a teenager. Being stupid and arrogant is pretty much your _job_ when you’re a teenager. He should have been watching for something like that.”

“So it was _his_ fault?” I glared in outrage. “It was his _birthday_!”

“Not his _fault_ , but…but yeah, kind of! It was his job to protect you, and he dropped the ball that time. It happens, you know? We all screw up sometimes. He was…ugh, this is coming out all wrong!” He hit his thigh in frustration. “It’s not your fault, okay? It’s just not. You were doing what teenagers do, and it went wrong. End of story.”

“But he _died_ ,” I protested.

He put his hands on my shoulders, and I looked up to meet his eyes. There was something almost scary in them right then, something deep and faraway. “Everyone dies,” he reminded me. “And you know, I know I didn’t know him, and henching’s not quite the same as being a bodyguard…but Trent knew he had a dangerous job. Just ask Samson sometime! They’re used to the violence.”

“So what, he signed up to be a bodyguard because he had a death wish?”

“No! Well, probably not. I don’t know. 24 didn’t want to die. _I_ don’t want to die. Heck, I don’t really want other people to die, either. But I like my job, so I guess it’s worth the risk?”

I smiled a little at that, because I knew if nothing else, Trent had loved his job. “He liked spending time with me,” I admitted, “and he taught me how to fight. But the times when there was danger, that’s when he really came alive.” There had been an attempt on me a couple years before the successful one. He’d gunned down three guys, broken the neck of the fourth, and the look on his face afterward had been transcendental.

Gary nodded eagerly. “Yeah, that’s what I’m talking about! He was doing what he loved.” He hesitated again. “And if he really loved _you_ —”

“He did,” I said curtly. He shouldn’t have, and maybe I _had_ been too young, maybe—oh hell, no _maybe_ , I knew it had been wrong—but I didn’t doubt for a minute that he’d really loved me.

Gary nodded again and took a deep breath. “Then he would have done anything to protect you. Even if it _wasn’t_ his job, he would have done it.”

I didn’t know how to process what he was telling me. My hand sprung up to my shoulder, grabbing his hand and holding it so tight my knuckles turned white. “You’re not allowed to die for me. Not ever. Promise me that right now.”

“Okay,” he said, squeezing my hand back. “On one condition.”

“What’s that?” I held my breath.

“Quit sleeping with Venture,” he said, with a hint of plaintiveness. “Actually, make that all men. Quit sleeping with guys who aren’t me. Try to, um…be better.”

I felt my eyebrows creeping up. “That’s it? You’re not even mad at me?”

 _His_ eyebrows pulled _down_. “I’m not gonna lie, it was _not_ cool of you. If you’re going to keep it up, no, I’m out. But I love you. So if you’re really going to work on yourself and not do it again, I guess I can forgive you.”

It would have been nice to tell him I didn’t want his damn forgiveness. To do what I’d set out to do and run away from the promise of something good. But the thing was, I _did_ want it. I wanted it so badly. “You _forgive_ me?” I repeated in awe. “Why?”

“Because…” He had to search for the right words. I don’t know why, but that made me feel a little better. It made it more real. “Because of why you did it? At first I thought, like, Venture has money, and that great lab, and security, and brains, and I thought maybe you were just into that. More than me.”

He’d thought that? For even a second? I flinched. “Ugh, no! That’s not what I’m into at _all_! The only reason I’d want money at all is so I’d have more time to spend with _you_!”

He smiled. It was a scared, relieved, tired smile—but it was there. “And you _left_ with me, just now. You didn’t have to, but you did. So yeah, I forgive you.”

It was the smile that did it, really. The words were pretty good, too, but that he could stand there in the frozen elevator after all this and _smile_ at me…it destroyed the last of my doubts, sweeping them away in a tidal wave of emotion. “I’m sorry,” I said, flinging my arms around him and burying my face in his chest. “I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry, it was so dumb, I don’t know what I was thinking. I was scared, I guess. Falling in love is terrifying.”

He arms closed around me, moving slowly and reassuringly over my back. “No, falling in love is awesome! What you’re scared of is the possibility that you’ll lose it. You’ve gotta live in the moment, Janey. Enjoy right now.” His embrace tightened. “Hold on to _this_.”

I turned my face up, stood on my tiptoes, and kissed him. In that moment, nothing else did matter. I kissed him for as long as I could, relishing the way he held me close, the slight smell of sweat on him, and the way his mouth moved with me. I let myself feel the love coming off him, and there was no doubt in my mind that it was worth all the drama and headache that had come before.

Even when the kiss ended, I remained pressed close against him, arms around his shoulders, rubbing my face against the stubble on his jaw. “Thank you,” I said sincerely. “I thought Rusty was what I deserved. But I _want_ you.”

“Then you’ve got me,” he said, the little squeak in his voice proving he was just as happy as I was.

“You, uh, wanna stop making out in our elevator?” said a deep voice over a speaker I hadn’t realized was there. “Some of us need to get upstairs.”

“That you, Samson?” Gary asked, completely unperturbed.

“Hey, Gary,” the voice answered amicably. “Congrats, you guys are a…well, you’re a weird couple, but whatever. Doc’s pretty pissed, I oughta get up there. Capisce?”

“Got it,” Gary said at once and the same time I asked “How pissed are we talking?”

“I’d, uh, steer clear for a while, if I was you,” Brock’s voice answered.

I winced. Gary was trying not to look pleased. “Okay, thanks,” I sighed. No further advice came out of the speaker, and Gary undid whatever he’d done to freeze the elevator. We started moving down again. “So now what?” I asked, reluctantly stepping back from him as the doors opened on the ground floor.

He took my hand as we walked out of the elevator together. “Want to get some breakfast?”

I grinned. “So much yes.”

He smiled, too. “You want to go back to IHOP, don’t you?”

I lifted one shoulder in a shrug. “I’d be fine with another can of RediWhip, but I’m trying to be a good girlfriend.”

He laughed, and my heart soared. “Well I took the car here, so we can—” His phone beeped. “Are you kidding me?”

“What, who is it?”

“Who do you think? Hang on.” He answered the call “Yeah…I know, dude! I just borrowed it for a…what are you even doing up already? We got home at practically dawn…uh-huh…I did _not_ need to know that…yeah, okay. _Okay,_ I’m on my way, alright?”

“Monarch?” I asked, already knowing the answer.

He sighed. “Yeah. We’ll have to do this another time, I gotta get back there.”

“Right _now_?” I asked in disbelief. “Why do they need you back right now?”

The tired half-smile on his face could only be described as rueful. “They’re famished from three hours of kinky drunken sex and I’m the only one in the house who can make a decent omelet.”

I stared in shock for a second before I started to laugh. “Seriously?” I asked, shaking my head at the ridiculousness of it. “ _Seriously_?” He shrugged, but at least he looked amused by my reaction. “Holy shit, why don’t they just rename you Alfred and have done with it?”

Gary attempted to put on a British accent. He was really bad at it. “Coz Alfred’s older’n Batman, in’e? ‘E’s sor of a fahva figgur, know wut I mean?” He saw the look on my face. “What?” I was biting my lip _really_ hard. “Oh come on, that was _great_!”

I shook my head. “You are way too good for them.”

“No,” he smiled, “I like where I’m at. So okay, he’s a little demanding. Henching for anyone else wouldn’t be nearly as much fun.”

“Plus,” I pointed out, “if you were working for someone else, you’d never have met me.” I kissed him again.

He grinned like an idiot. “Good point!”

I didn’t want to let him go right now. Or maybe ever. “I’m coming with you,” I announced suddenly.

“You want to come?” His hands were on my waist. I loved it. And I loved the concern on his face. And all of his face. And everything about him. “What about The Monarch trying to use you and stuff?”

That had been a concern for last week. Not today. “He can’t use me against Rusty if I’m not even working for VenTech.”

His shoulders slumped, and the concern stayed on his face. “I didn’t mean to lose you your job, Janey. I know you liked it here.”

I had, in a lot of ways. But choosing between a fancy lab and a man who actually loved me was no choice at all. “I’m not sure if I’m fired or not, honestly.” I probably was, after the way I’d left. And I was fine with that. But I was a damn good scientist and Rusty knew it, so you never know. “Better make sure.”

I unceremoniously broke away from Gary and walked up to the main desk. The same guy from last night was sitting behind it, looking tired. Didn’t he ever sleep? I pulled out my key card and nodded to him. “Hey, if anyone asks, I quit, okay?”

He blinked and sat up straight in his chair. “Um…okay, I guess…do I wanna know?”

“Nope!” I gave him a sunny smile and returned to Gary, who seemed stunned.

“Holy crap! What are you going to do now?”

“Spend some time with you,” I answered happily, slipping my hand back into his.

“Yeah but like…for money?”

“I didn’t quit Costume Party,” I pointed out calmly. “Not like I ever saw a paycheck from working in the lab anyhow. And if Rusty didn’t fire me, he would have kept sniffing around, and I— _we_ —don’t need that.” I smiled, liking the fact that there was a _we_. That I hadn’t wrecked it all. That it could be even better, starting right now. “Look,” I told him, squeezing his hand, “I’m all in now. You’re more important to me than a stupid job. And it’s done, so there’s nothing you can do about it! Bridge burned!” My smile turned into a radiant grin. It felt like a giant weight had just come off my shoulders. “Now let’s get going. We can’t keep The Monarch waiting. I want to meet him properly this time.”

* * *

There were two of them in the kitchen. Even in a maroon bathrobe rather than his regular outfit, The Monarch was easy to recognize. The woman in the silky pink robe which didn’t leave much to the imagination was new to me, but it wasn’t exactly hard to figure out who she was. Holy shit though, I hadn’t realized she’d be so hot! It made the politely puzzled way she looked at me a little intimidating.

“Oh good, you’re back,” The Monarch said without turning in his seat. “I am _starving_. Where did you even go at—”

“Sweetie,” his wife cut him off, gesturing with her head.

“What the?” The Monarch demanded when he saw me leaning casually against the doorframe, making myself at home in his kitchen.

“Hey,” I said, lifting my hand in greeting.

Gary smiled a little too broadly. “You…you remember Jane, right?”

The Monarch looked at me for a second before nodding. “Yes, yes, Venture’s main squeeze. The weirdly hot one. You’ve kidnapped her again?”

“No. She’s my girlfriend!” The way he puffed up with pride when he said that made me feel warm and fuzzy inside. I was getting used to feeling like that. Huh, weird.

“Uh…what?” The Monarch looked back and forth between us, looking confused and…worried? “No, she’s _Venture’s_ girlfriend.”

“She totally is _not_ ,” Gary objected. He looked back to me uncertainly, and I gave a reassuring smile and slipped my hand into his.

“It’s okay, babe,” I told him, “I can speak for myself.” I addressed the strange couple seated at the kitchen table. “Hey. So yeah. I was never Venture’s girlfriend. I slept with him a few times, and it seems like he _thought_ I was, but I’m not really into him. Never said I was.” I looked to the wife for support. “You know how men read into everything.” I rolled my eyes.

She rolled hers, too. “Especially Venture, yes!”

Pleasantly surprised to find understanding, I flashed her a smile. Gary hard warned me about her deep voice on the ride over, so it didn’t catch me off guard. “Fuck me running, _yes_! Not just him, though. Your husband saw us together and made the same assumption.”

“Seriously?” She turned to The Monarch. “You just _assumed_ that? Sweetie, you’ve seen _me_ with Venture! Am _I_ his girlfriend?”

“No, but…this isn’t the point!” The Monarch was clearly feeling ganged up on here. “So, what, I’m supposed to believe you’ve been secretly dating 21 all this time instead?”

“No, just since we kidnapped her.” Gary, still glowing, couldn’t seem to stop himself. “We had a lot of time to get to know each other, when she finally woke up.”

“After I threatened to make you vomit up your colon?” I asked sweetly, wrapping my arms around him from the side.

If I’d had any doubts about him stealing my heart, the look in his eyes right then would have sealed the deal. “Yeah!”

“That explains why she looked like she was enjoying herself,” The Monarch muttered thoughtfully. “Alright, so what’s she doing here now?”

“I’m meeting my boyfriend’s best friend,” I said. “Obviously.”

“We were just about to get breakfast,” Gary explained, “when you called, and I thought, why don’t we all just have breakfast together?”

“Because she wasn’t invited, that’s wh—” The Monarch snapped.

Luckily, his wife cut him off. “That’s just fantastic. Isn’t it fantastic, sweetie?” She shot him a significant look.

“Yeah,” he sighed, giving in. “Fantastic. I just wish you’d given me a chance to get _dressed_ first.”

“Hey.” Gary crossed his arms. “It’s not _my_ fault you didn’t go to sleep when we got home this morning.”

“No, it’s yours,” The Monarch addressed his wife, “you gorgeous minx! You couldn’t keep your hands off me, could you?”

“You look so good in a tux,” she cooed back seductively.

“I’d like to see you in a tux,” I whispered into Gary’s ear.

“I just stood there eating hors d’ oeuvres the whole time,” he murmured back.

“Hot,” I told him, pressing myself harder against his side and rolling my hips suggestively.

“I’m still starving,” The Monarch interrupted pointedly.

Gary sighed. “Yeah, okay, I’m on it!” He squeezed my hand once before walking to the cupboard to pull out a large frying pan. I wondered where he’d learn to cook omelets. I should have him teach me. They were more useful than chocolate chip cookies, and I knew him a lot better than my mom. I took a seat at the table without waiting for an invitation and watched him with interest until one of the hosts took a stab at conversation.

“Well congratulations,” Mrs. The Monarch said with forced heartiness. “It’s great to see 21 get a nice girl…at least, I assume you’re nice?”

I lifted one shoulder. “Not really.”

Gary turned away from the open fridge to shoot me a look of barely suppressed amusement. “You are too, Janey! She acts like she doesn’t have a heart, but she’s full of it.”

“Is that right?” The Mrs. raised her eyebrows. “Well, as long as you don’t break _his_ heart. You do that, you’ll never see your death coming.” She snapped her fingers and smiled in a way that convinced me she wasn’t just making a joke.

“Oh,” I said, pleasantly surprised by her attitude. “So you _do_ actually care about him beyond his ability to whisk eggs and pick up dry-cleaning?”

“Of course we do!” she answered at once. “Gary’s very important to us.” I noticed she made a point of dropping his real name this time.

“He’s important to me, too,” I said. I shot a quick smile in his direction, but he was engaged in pulling eggs out of the carton. “And I have no intention of breaking his heart. But thanks for the threat.” Weirdly, I meant it. I didn’t _need_ any extra reasons to avoid hurting Gary, but threat of death was a pretty good incentive.

“So,” The Monarch asked casually, leaning back in his chair, “does Venture still _think_ you’re dating?”

We’d both expected this. We’d discussed the best way to let him down on the drive over, actually. “I’m afraid I made it pretty clear when I left this morning that we weren’t,” I told him, looking faintly apologetic.

Gary turned away from the stove with a mischievous grin. “You’ve _gotta_ see the surveillance footage of it! He was _so pissed_! Like, wow, _super_ pissed.”

I could confirm this. “If you leave right now,” I said in a decent imitation of Rusty, “you are walking away from all _this_!” I even did the dramatic flourish with my hand. The Monarch’s wife snorted a laugh. “I won’t take you back!”

“And then we made out in the elevator for a while,” Gary added cheerfully. I couldn’t tell if he was more pleased because he got to tell people we’d made out, or because in this case his boss would love it.

The Monarch clapped his hands in delight. “Rubbing salt in the wound! Fantastic!” He looked me over with new respect. “Did he cry?”

“Not in front of me,” I admitted, suggesting maybe he had after I left. He probably hadn’t, and I hadn’t _wanted_ him to, but you never knew. I smiled smugly.

“Any chance you can go back and seduce him all over again, and then break his heart again?” The Monarch asked, barely concealing his excitement at the idea.

“Afraid not,” I apologized. “I’d have to sleep with him again to pull that off, and I’m in a committed relationship now.” I cast another fond smile toward Gary. This time he looked away from the butter he was melting to smile back.

“Oh come on,” The Monarch protested, “seducing someone for _vengeance_ isn’t the same as cheating!”

“You didn’t want _me_ sleeping with him,” his wife pointed out gently. “You wouldn’t want to put 21 in the same situation, would you?”

He looked back and forth between the three of us. “Aw, come on! It’d be so _easy_!”

“Sorry,” I said, not particularly. “You can still enjoy the video from this morning.”

“You’re in my house,” he whined. “You’re…you’re dating my henchman! You owe me!”

“No I don’t,” I said calmly.

“If you don’t,” he threatened, pulling himself up and shaking a finger at me, “I’m not going to let you see 21 anymore!”

“Honey, you can’t do that.” His wife sounded embarrassed as she put a hand on his arm. “He’s a grown man, a great number two, and your best friend.”

The Monarch’s shoulders slumped, and he sat back down. “Oh, alright. So what’s she _doing_ here, then?” He glared at me.

“Having breakfast, I already told you! Jeez!” Gary snapped, slicing cherry tomatoes way harder than necessary.

I stood up, walked over to him, and put my hand on his shoulder. “Hey,” I said softly, “it’s cool, babe. You knew he was going to ask. And you were right, she took your side.”

“I know, I know, I know.” He sighed. “I just really wanted you guys to like each other.”

I glanced back over my shoulder at The Monarch, who was watching with mild interest. “ _You_ like him,” I said after a minute. “And so does she, and she seems pretty cool. Maybe he’ll grow on me.” He still looked unhappy, so moved my hand around the back of his neck and pulled him down into a kiss. “I love you, I can tolerate him,” I whispered.

“You two are just adorable,” Mrs. The Monarch said from the table. She sounded like she meant it. “Come here, honey, tell me about yourself.”

I gave Gary one more kiss before retreating to the table. He didn’t seem likely to slice the tips of his fingers off anymore, and if me getting along with these two was important to him, I’d put in the effort. “Okay, well, I’m Jane,” I said awkwardly, remembering too late that Gary had already said that. I held out a hand to shake.

“Dr. Mrs. The Monarch,” she told me, taking it. She had a firm, competent handshake. I liked her. 

That was a mouthful! Didn’t she have a first name? Oh well. “What kind of doctor?” I somehow doubted she was a pediatrician.

“I gotta use the john,” The Monarch announced unceremoniously, and left the table.

No one seemed phased by this lack of tact. “Mechanical engineering,” his wife told me as if nothing had happened.

“No shit,” I was impressed. I gasped as a lightbulb went off in my head. “ _You_ invented the wings!”

“Years ago,” she smiled. “I’ve updated my husband’s a few times, but the basic design is pretty simple. You’ve seen them in action?”

I nodded, not sure whether I should tell her that Gary was using them to sweep women off their feet. Instead, I jerked my head toward him. “He’s been practicing with them. I got a sneak peek.”

She had a deep, throaty laugh. “I remember when he couldn’t even fly straight in them! Remember that, 21? It took you weeks to stop doing loops!”

Gary shook a spatula at him. “Hey, no one was giving out lessons, and my practice buddy was healing from a stab wound!”

And I’d trusted him with my life in those things? Yikes. “I guess you’ve come a long way,” I remarked, keeping the tremble mostly out of my voice.

“You have _no idea_ ,” he answered in good humor, turning back to the food.

“So, what do you do?” Dr. Mrs. The Monarch asked, politely putting the conversation back on me.

How did I answer that? “I don’t even know anymore,” I admitted without much regret. “I’m good at science but never got a degree in it. That’s why I was working at VenTech—Rusty didn’t care, as long as I knew my shit. Which I do.” I could hear the pride in my voice as I said that. “But I just quit that job, so I guess all I am is a glorified cocktail waitress right now.” Not as much pride about that one, but I wasn’t ashamed of it, either.

Dr. Mrs. The Monarch showed signs of being impressed that I was a scientist, too. “What kind of science?”

“Chemistry, mostly. I’ve done a bit of engineering, myself, and I pissed around some with alchemy, but mostly it’s chemistry and physics.” I smiled, showing lots of teeth. “I like explosive engineering.”

“Bombs?” she asked with more than polite interest.

I nodded smugly as I waggled a hand back and forth. They were so much more than bombs, really. “Creative explosives. The latest thing I was working on was a coin-sized sticky bomb that packs the punch of a small nuclear warhead. But I’ve done plenty of standard incendiaries, one that releases a swarm of nanobots, some that just provide distractions or discomfort…” I smiled broadly again, thinking about my work. “It’s fun.”

“You’re so cute when you talk about blowing things up,” Gary said from his position at the stove. I blew him a kiss.

“I’ve done some work with poisons and remedies, too,” I added as an afterthought.

Dr. Mrs. The Monarch’s eyebrows had climbed up her forehead as I spoke. “Oh my God, honey,” she exclaimed. “Why are you not working for the Guild?”

Her surprise made that into a pretty nice compliment, but I had no desire to get mixed up in the professional villain business again…any more than I already was by sitting here, anyway. “I tried,” I told her, still ever so slightly bitter about how that had worked out for me. “Couldn’t find a good fit for me to arch, they said.” I shrugged. “I went through a few low-grade heroes, and it was a total bore. I guess I’m better in a lab.”

“That’s what I mean,” she told me excitedly. “The Guild’s _lab_! In Strategic Operations! Our Weapons Division!”

My breath caught in my throat, so it took me a second to answer. “You have a weapons division?”

“21,” she demanded, practically glaring at Gary’s back, “you never even _told_ her about it? You were gonna let her keep wasting herself at VenTech, when she could have been designing stuff you and my husband could _use_?”

He didn’t quite flinch, but something about his posture suddenly looked guilty. “Er…I thought that was a secret?”

“Well, _yes_.” Dr. Mrs. rolled her eyes. “But she already knew about the Guild, and you liked her enough to bring her _here,_ so why not?”

“She said she liked her job,” he protested weakly. Part of me wanted to assure him it was alright, that I appreciated him letting me run my own life no matter how badly I was doing at it. The other part of me was just as outraged as Dr. Mrs. that he hadn’t even mentioned this to me. The Monarch wouldn’t have a shiny, well-equipped lab like Rusty. But the Guild of Calamitous Intent sure would.

“You weren’t even gonna _try_?” she pressed him. “I would kill for some high-class explosives, do you have any idea how hard they are to get?”

“Of _course_ I do, I’m the one placing the orders half the time! You know how many things I’m trying to remember at any given time? It’s a miracle Janey and I even _met_! Shut up so I don’t burn these omelets!”

There was a moment of silence after that. Gary sprinkled some shredded cheese and vegetables over the cooking eggs. I softly asked Dr. Mrs. The Monarch, “You really think you could get me in at this weapons division?”

“Well, I’d have to see some of your work,” she said cautiously, “but if you’re as good as you say—easily, yeah.”

“Good news, babe,” I said louder. “I’ve decided I like your friends.”

“What’d I miss?” the Monarch asked, walking back into the kitchen.

* * *

The rest of breakfast was very pleasant. I took a few bites of the omelet Gary had made for himself, accompanying it with some vitamins and a tall glass of water. Once The Monarch realized I wasn’t going to magically disappear, he made the most of it and joined in the conversation. I talked science with Dr. Mrs., while The Monarch and Gary told me about the tour they’d gotten of Guild Strategic Operations. It was underground, apparently. An entrance in Brooklyn Heights. Why had no one ever told me this? Need to know basis, fair enough. Do not, under any circumstances, confuse the HTC with the VATC. Got it. I listened as Gary assured The Monarch that the henchmen had everything in hand, and those who had spent all night at some lame cocktail party were clear to take a nice long nap.

Speaking of naps was all it took to make Dr. Mrs. start yawning, and as soon as the food was gone she and The Monarch excused themselves. “Oh man,” Gary said as I helped him move dishes to the sink, “I am beat.”

“Of course you are,” I said fondly, rinsing off a plate. “You were up all night at some dumb party, and then you had to deal with my…issues.”

“More issues than a newstand?” he mumbled drowsily, passing me another plate. “Me too.”

I giggled. It was a really lame joke, but I liked that he was making jokes about it at all. “You’re cute.”

“See, this is why you rock.” He flashed me a brief smile before turning the sink off and looking at me with an intense mixture of exhaustion and seriousness. “Are you staying?”

“Yes,” I said emphatically. “For as long as you want.”

“Sweet,” he said, leading the way down the hall.

“If I do get that weapons job,” I said as we climbed the stairs, “they have good benefits, right?”

“Oh, totally! I bet they pay well for the research stuff, too.”

“Then I could quit Costume Party,” I grinned, barely containing my excitement at the idea. “And be free most of the same times you are!”

“That sounds good,” he agreed drowsily, flopping onto his mattress.

I shut the door carefully behind me and kicked my shoes off, joining him there. My mind was still jumping around between all the events of the past few days. “Hey, what would you think if I stopped straightening my hair?”

“That you were still way too hot for me,” he answered without hesitation.

Good answer. I brushed a lock of hair away from his forehead. “Do you care that I don’t know how to make an omelet or bake cookies?”

“Not unless you do. You want me to teach you?”

“Yes.” I wrapped my arms around him. “And you really love me? Even after I screwed everything up?”

“You’re more than your screw-ups,” he said softly. “So yes.”

I kissed him. The kiss flowed down my body, pulling me in close to him from head to toe. “Are you too tired for make-up sex?”

“Uhhhh, let me think,” he said sarcastically. “ _No_.”

I’d been wrong earlier, I reflected as I snuggled in his arms after several incredible orgasms. Maybe Rusty Venture really was all I deserved, okay, but that wasn’t the life I _wanted_. And it wasn’t where I belonged.

I belonged right here, in bed with this big, geeky, excitable, competent, impossibly sweet henchman.

“Hey, Janey,” he murmured, head resting on my chest.

“Hm?” I’d intended to make some mental lists while he slept, figuring out all the supplies I’d need to buy to recreate some of my best explosives for a new job interview with the Guild. But now that I was lying here beside him, comfortable and happy, sleep was starting to creep up on me.

“How do you think Edward Scissorhands pees?”

A sleepy smile tugged at my lips. “Sitting down, obviously.”

Gary digested that. “Well, how does he wipe?”

I cringed as I considered that. “Bidet.”

He yawned again, adjusting where his hand lay on my stomach. “You really think the Boggs have a bidet?”

“If they didn’t,” I answered, pausing to echo his yawn, “I think they’d get one pretty quick, don’t you?”

“Yeah,” he agreed, sighing contentedly. “Good point.”

Yep, I belonged right here. Right fucking here.

* * *

_Hey Dad,_

_Bet you’re surprised to hear from me, huh? I know it’s been a while. I guess that’s mostly on me. I did a lot of stuff over the years that I regret—though to be fair, there was a lot of stuff you handled pretty terribly, too. Maybe it’s on both of us._

_Anyway, I don’t know if you miss me or not, but I thought I’d reach out and let you know I’m doing okay. Better than okay, actually. That’s why I’m writing. I met someone who got me thinking and trying to move past…well, all that crap. He thinks that contacting you might help, so I’ll give it a shot. I don’t really want to pop by for Sunday brunch or anything, but I’m sick of carrying around all this anger._

_I heard you’re back in the Big Science game now. Hope that’s going well. I’m working in science too, in a way. It probably wouldn’t make you proud, but I’m happy. And don’t worry, I’m not using the family name. Best wishes,_

_Jane_


End file.
